First Impressions and Quality Time
by RogueAngel
Summary: Continuation of the Consequences 'verse.  Little Abigail Kirk meets and spends time with the crewmembers of the Enterprise and other people important to Jim and Marissa.  Each chapter is self contained and focuses on one crewmember or person.
1. Chapter 1  McCoy

_Here's the next installment in the Consequences 'verse. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters except maybe Marissa and Abby. Everyone else belongs to Gene Roddenberry and Paramount. I am making no money off this, either, just so you know._

**First Impressions and Quality Time**

**Chapter One - Bones**

McCoy slowly opened the door to exam room two. It was just past eight in the morning and he wanted to see how the Enterprise's newest family was doing. Rolling his eyes he saw that Jim was curled up on the bed behind Marissa, snoring softly. They both had to be exhausted, he knew. Having a baby, even for the father, was a strenuous business, but they had come through amazingly and McCoy was proud of both of them.

He heard some quiet mewling from the other side of the bed and made his way over. Abby had woken up, though she didn't seem upset or hungry yet, just alert. He knew from the night duty nurse that she had had her last feeding around six that morning, so there was no reason for her to need her mother anytime soon. He'd let Marissa and Jim rest a bit longer.

Stooping over the bassinet, McCoy smiled down at the small bundle that blinked blindly up at him.

"Good morning, darling," he whispered as he picked her up and cradled her against his chest. Moving over to the chair that Jim had been sitting in earlier, McCoy sat down, swinging his legs over one side and propping Abby up against his thighs.

He'd spent many hours with Joanna just like this, talking to her, making faces, and simply enjoying having his daughter close. Joanna had had her nights and days mixed up for the first few weeks of her life, so McCoy had enjoyed his time with her while Jocelyn had slept.

Thinking of Joanna hurt, especially since he had barely seen her for a day before he shipped out on the _Enterprise_. Damn Jocelyn and damn her lawyers. She was getting so big. Already seven years old; he knew he was missing so much.

"You know little one," McCoy whispered softly, one long finger uncurling Abby's closed fist and inspecting her tiny digits. "By the time we get back to Earth you'll be almost five years old and I'll get to watch every bit of you growing up. And my baby girl will be twelve and I'll have missed it all."

There was a lump in his throat and he swallowed painfully. "I'll have vid-calls and data packets - pictures to hang on my walls. I guess I won't miss everything, but it won't be like being there. I hope you won't mind if I steal you from time to time." He smiled wistfully as Abby let out a small burp. "I'm your Uncle Bones and I get to spoil you rotten."

He paused, running a finger over downy cheeks.

"Between you and me and your mama we're going to have to keep your daddy in line," he told her softly. "He can be a bit reckless, but I think you might be just the answer we're looking for. He can't go too crazy when he's got you waiting at home for him. He won't want to miss out on anything. He's already missed so much," he trailed off sadly.

McCoy didn't like to think about his friend's sad past. He now knew some of the facts and a few of details; had known or suspected others since their days at the Academy, but it was hard to look at his friend sometimes and not see the broken little boy that he once was. Once he'd figured out what had happened to Jim, his rebellion and problems with authority made sense.

He knew that Jim would make an amazing Captain, but he worried that he would put too much of himself into the job and eventually lose himself in it. That was all well and good for a career officer, but McCoy wanted more than that for his friend. And Marissa and Abby seemed like the answer to his prayers.

Marissa and this tiny baby in his arms would give Jim the anchor he needed to fly free, but also something to always come back home to, a fact that McCoy had worried about. McCoy could be Jim's friend and confidant, but he couldn't be the person giving him a reason to come back.

He'd been a bit worried at first that things had happened too quickly between Jim and Marissa and that Jim had fallen too hard, too soon and too fast, but so far he'd been proven wrong. He genuinely liked Marissa. She was smart, she was brave, and more importantly, she was stubborn enough to deal with Jim even in his most ornery moods. She didn't take shit from him and that's what Jim needed.

"You're going to be one spoiled little miss," McCoy smirked. "I don't doubt you already have your daddy wrapped around you little finger. Me too, for that matter," he admitted. "I'm sure you'll even win over the green blooded hobgoblin eventually. Just remember, I saw you first and I'm your Uncle Bones. If you want something, you come to me first."

"Are you trying to bribe my daughter, _Uncle_ _Bones_," Jim said softly from the bed, smiling widely at his friend.

"I'm just stating facts," McCoy told his friend, fighting to control the blush that was threatening to overwhelm him. "Your daddy's a jackass," he told Abby, as he stood up.

"Don't tell her that!" Jim laughed lightly, uncurling from behind Marissa, and tucking the blankets back around her snuggly.

"Even if it's true?" McCoy asked.

Jim padded up to him on bare feet a dropped a quick kiss to his daughters forehead.

"Marissa did really well," McCoy told him. "You both did."

Jim smiled. "It wasn't so bad," he admitted. "It was the waiting that killed me. I can't stand waiting."

"It was worth it."

"Yeah, it was definitely worth it," Jim agreed, taking Abby into his arms. "Can you believe it Bones? I'm a dad!"

He was so busy looking down at Abby that he didn't see the fond smile on his friend's face. "Congratulations, Jim," McCoy said softly, squeezing Jim's shoulder.

"Thanks Bones," Jim looked up at him. "Do you think…" he trailed off, looking back down at his daughter with a worried look.

"You'll do fine, Jim," McCoy responded. "Just go with your instincts and you'll be a great dad. After all, you don't know how to fail." Jim smiled wryly at that. "And I trust that if you get too far out of line Marissa will kick your ass."

"True," Jim agreed. "I just don't want to mess this up."

"You won't," McCoy assured him, giving him another squeeze. "Just don't spoil her too much, you hear?"

"Yeah, right," Jim laughed, "between me and Marissa and you – Uncle Bones – and Uhura and Roose and all your nurses… she's going to be the most spoiled kid in the galaxy."

"Probably," McCoy agreed. "But at least she'll know she's loved," he added softly.

"Yeah, she'll know that," Jim whispered, placing his lips against her soft hair and inhaling. "She'll always know that."

Without another word, McCoy left the room, leaving his best friend with his new family. They'd be fine. Jim didn't know how to do anything but succeed. This wouldn't be any different.

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	2. Chapter 2  Scotty

**First Impressions and Quality Time**

**Chapter 2 - Scotty**

**Two+ weeks**

"I don' be meaning to interrupt, Capt'n," Scotty said nervously from the doorway, "but I've something for the wee lassie." He held out a small bundle he'd been holding behind his back, "an' something for you too," he added with a wink, whipping out a large bottle of single malt scotch.

Jim smiled widely. "By all means," he swept his hand towards the room, offering Scotty entrance, "I never turn away a scot bearing gifts. And you're not interrupting anything. Sulu and Chekov just stopped by and Uhura's been visiting for awhile now."

"I heard that Kirk!" Uhura called out from the couch where she was currently holding the sleeping baby.

"I'm not complaining," Jim shot back. "I'm just keeping my eye on you. If you leave and we can't find Abby your quarters are the first place I'm looking."

Everyone laughed, even Uhura, and Scotty moved into the room handing the bottle to Jim and the bundle to Marissa. Abby was just barely a week old and the novelty of having a baby, let alone a baby Kirk, on board was still new and crewmembers were stopping by constantly. Jim and Marissa had finally established visiting hours the other day since Marissa now had to work, too.

Jim like showing off his daughter and was thrilled that the crew was so interested in her and her progress, but he also wanted time with them alone, as a family. Between his hours and Marissa's hours and Abby's erratic schedule, visiting hours were a good compromise. They were approachable by the crew, but still had most of their evenings to themselves to marvel at what they had created.

"What's this?" Jim asked, holding up the small box that had been attached to the whiskey.

"Ah, weel," Scotty blushed and glanced nervously over at Marissa, "I thought as a new father ye might be needing a little something like these to… to help you…"

Opening the box, Jim immediately began to chuckle. "Ear plugs?"

"Highest noise reduction rating available. You could stand in the middle of the engine room and not hear a thing," Scotty said proudly. "Use them myself."

Marissa's giggle caused everyone to turn and look at her. "Don't think you're getting out of changing diapers there, Captain," she said mock seriously. "I can still kick you to get your attention."

Jim smiled. "Noted." Turning he nodded at his chief engineer. "Thanks Scotty, both presents are appreciated. Now, what's in the bundle? I assume it's for Abby?"

"Ah, aye," the scot blushed again. "As I said it's for the wee lassie. I've heard tha' all babies need stimulation to help their minds grow and my gran was a big one for teaching them early – she was a teacher all her life, teaching the wee ones just as they started school – and she used to make these in her spare time, as a sort of hobby and I thought I'd try my hand at it…" he trailed off, his blush deepening as Marissa began to unwrap the present.

"Ohhh," Marissa marveled as she pulled the contraption up. It was a mobile, but not like one she'd ever seen. Instead of bears or flowers or other babyish items, suspended from an arched rod were a miniature model of the _Enterprise_, a hydrospanner, a swirling item that resembled the universe, a PADD and a couple other items she didn't immediately recognize.

"See," Scotty scooted over and grasped the mobile. "It can hook onto her crib, or it can be set up to arch over if she's lying down. Now it's just a bunch of shiny objects, but as she gets bigger she can reach for them and they'll do something. See?" He grabbed the _Enterprise_ and it made a sound like a firing phaser, a blue light flashing from under the saucer. The hydrospanner crinkled like newspaper, the PADD made beeps and bops and actually sang the ABCs when a certain button was pushed, the swirling universe squeaked like an old cat toy. "All of it is safe for the lassie, and this little bit," he flipped a switch, "is what my gran swears by."

The room was filed with the sounds of the _Enterprises'_ engines at warp, a deep thrumming noise. "White noise, do ye see? To help the wee lassie sleep."

Marissa did her best to hide her grin, and Uhura seemed to have a sudden urge to press her face into Abby's blankets. Jim and Sulu weren't as circumspect. All three of them were grinning widely.

"The engine?" Jim said with a laugh.

"Well, aye!" Scotty replied, looking somewhat offended. "What's more soothing than the sound of a ship's engine?"

"Of course," Sulu coughed.

Jim just continued to smile.

"I agree with Meester Scot," Chekov chimed in, looking around at everyone as if he too couldn't understand why they were laughing. "Ze zound is wery comforting."

"Thank you, lad," Scotty nodded. "If'n ye don' like the engine sounds, and I canna imagine why, I've added other sounds, too."

"Oh no," Uhura whispered. Marissa snorted.

Instead of anything mechanical in nature the sound of a burbling stream was heard. Another press of the button and it was the wind, then ocean waves, then back to the engines.

"It's lovely Scotty," Marissa said sincerely, squeezing his arm in thanks. "We'll put it on her crib today."

"I'll do it for ye, if ye like," Scotty blushed again. Taking the mobile from Marissa, he followed Jim back to Abby's room.

When he returned a couple minutes later, Abby was awake from her short nap and staring at Chekov who was talking with Uhura. Uhura had propped the infant against her chest so that she faced out into the room. She seemed content to sit and observe the people around her. Of course, at a couple weeks old she couldn't really see or focus on anything, but she did seem to track voices rather well. Any time Chekov shifted as he spoke her eyes would follow him.

"I see the lassie is awake!" Scotty said, plopping himself onto the table in front of Uhura. "Aren't you a pretty baby?" He reached out and lightly tapped a clenched fist.

Abby's eyes grew wide as he continued to talk to her, her face scrunching up.

"Are you going to talk to me?" Scotty asked, smiling. Instead, Abby opened her mouth and began to cry, startling the poor man.

Uhura switched her around so that she could pat Abby's back, trying to comfort her.

"I didn't mean to startle the wee lassie," Scotty said sheepishly.

"I don't think it was you, Scotty," Marissa said calmly as she claimed her daughter. "I think she's just hungry." Settling into a chair, Marissa threw a blanket over her shoulder. After some rustling and grunting from Abby, the room became quiet again, except for the quiet sucking and swallowing sounds coming from beneath the blanket.

"Weel, I uh…" Scotty quickly stood up, as did Sulu and Chekov.

"We'll just… go… now," Sulu said awkwardly, backing away towards the door.

"Zank you for hafing us," Chekov said in a rush, not even looking back. "I must… ze cafeteria…dinner."

And before you could say 'feed the baby,' all three men were out the door.

"Men," Uhura smirked, shaking her head at the mass exodus once Marissa started feeding Abby.

"Hey!" Jim protested.

Uhura waved a dismissive hand. "You don't count," she told him.

"I'm not sure how I feel about that," Jim mumbled to himself.

"I'll see you later, Marissa," Uhura said, ignoring Jim. Standing up, she let herself out of the quarters.

"Scotty's gift was really thoughtful," Marissa said once they were alone.

"Yeah, it's pretty neat," Jim agreed, leaning back onto the couch and watching Marissa and Abby fondly.

"Engine noise?" Marissa asked with a raised eyebrow and a suppressed grin.

Jim shrugged. "Well, you can take the engineer out of engineering..."

"I guess so!" Marissa laughed.

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	3. Chapter 3 Uhura and Spock

**First Impressions and Quality Time**

**Chapter 3 – Uhura and Spock**

Uhura entered her quarters, humming under her breath. There was a smile on her face as she glanced down at the infant in her arms. She had stopped by to visit Marissa and the baby and had noticed Marissa's exhaustion right away. Abby was just three weeks old and apparently playing all the newborn tricks that babies did – switching her nights and her days, not sleeping when her parents wanted and then sleeping for too long and making her parents worry.

She'd noticed the dark circles under Jim's eyes and that he was often yawning at the beginning and end of his shifts when not fortified with caffeine, but at least Jim looked presentable, if tired. Marissa looked like the stereotypical new mom – bleary-eyed, dark circles, not showered, frizzy hair – it wasn't pretty. And she knew that it didn't help that Marissa was consulting on a first contact project with the _Antares_.

When Marissa had tried to smoother a yawn after Abby had finished her meal and then frowned as Abby had stared up at her with her blue eyes obviously wide awake, Uhura hadn't been able to stop herself.

"Why don't I take her for an hour or two," she offered. She'd only held Abby a couple times since she'd been born; Marissa and Jim didn't discourage visitors, but they hadn't exactly been passing the baby around either. "You look like you could use a nap and Abby looks like she might want to be awake for awhile."

Marissa looked down at her daughter thoughtfully, her mother's instincts obviously warring with her desire for rest. "Are you sure? Jim…."

"Is on a conference comm. with some diplomats," Uhura told her, "and probably will be for awhile as they're trying to hash out the details of trade with the Delobians. I'll stay here in your quarters if you like, but you really look like you need to rest."

Laughing lightly, Marissa shook her head and fondly looked down at Abby. "Yeah, I could use a nap. The words on my PADD are starting to blur together." She yawned again. "I knew being a mom was going to be exhausting, but I didn't know it was going to be this bad."

"Most new moms have at least two months of maternity leave," Uhura pointed out wryly. She knew why Jim and Marissa had decided not to request maternity leave. Such a request would be basically announcing Abby's birth to all of Starfleet, but once Marissa had be asked to consult with the _Antares_ five days after giving birth, Uhura thought that they should have changed their decision and allowed Marissa the time she needed to adjust to motherhood instead of having to work fulltime and be on call.

Marissa rolled her eyes. "I know you think we should have bit the bullet and asked for maternity leave, but the situation with the new contact is pretty tense and I wouldn't feel right not helping, with or without Abby. At least they didn't ask me to transfer ships," she shrugged. "And I really don't like the idea of Abby's birth becoming more fodder for the Starfleet gossip mill. Jim and I have dealt with enough shit, we don't want to spoil this," she smiled down at Abby.

"I know, I know," Uhura agreed. "But you both look so tired. I can't imagine doing all you're doing and having a newborn."

"It will get better," Marissa told her, though she had to hold back another yawn. "Jim helps as much as he can. It's just hard because she's literally attached to me for food."

Uhura stood up with determination. "All the more reason for me to take her now," she said. "Like I said, I can stay here or take her to my rooms, but you can rest until she's hungry again."

"Okay," Marissa agreed quietly, standing up and handing the infant over. "Let me get her bag. She'll probably need changing soon and there are a couple of toys she likes…."

Soon Uhura escaped with Abby and a loaded down diaper bag with a promise from Marissa to go directly to sleep and not worry about anything. They would literally be across the hall if Abby became fussy.

"So, Abigail," Uhura said to the infant as she set the diaper bag down on a low table and walked over to the couch. "What would you like to do now?" Not unexpectedly, Abby didn't say anything. She did scrunch up her face and fill her diaper rather spectacularly, though.

"Well, that's a start," Uhura laughed. After changing the diaper and quickly disposing of it Uhura settled in to watch Abby. A three week old baby wasn't really interactive, but she found that Abby liked listening to her voice, so Uhura sang and spoke while she played with the child's fingers and toes. After an hour she showed no signs of being sleepy and Uhura was getting hungry, so she stood up and ordered lunch from the replicator.

Eating one handed and not spilling on Abby was a bit of a challenge, but every time she put the child down she would start to fuss. In truth, her arm was beginning to feel a little sore.

That's when she had a brilliant idea. Propping Abby up on some pillows on her bed Uhura rummaged through her closet quickly, all the while keeping up a running commentary for the infant. Pulling out Spock's lyre, she settled on the bed and proceeded to entertain her immobile audience. Abby was asleep within two songs, but she continued to play one more before stopping, a fond smile on her face as she watched the infant.

"Why did you continue when the child was already asleep," Spock's voice interrupted the quiet.

Startling, she turned to look at her lover. "I don't know," she finally shrugged her shoulders. "I like playing and she seemed to like it. I wanted to make sure she was fully asleep before I stopped."

Spock nodded. "How has she come to be in our quarters?"

Carefully, Uhura got off the bed to stand close to him. "Since I was off shift I stopped by to see Marissa. She looked exhausted. I offered to take Abby for awhile so she could rest."

"That was kind of you," Spock told her. "I have not seen Ensign O'Donnell recently. Jim has looked extremely tired lately, though."

"Marissa looks worse," Uhura commented. "After all, I know Jim helps out, but Marissa is Abby's only source of food at the moment. There's not a lot Jim can do. And with Marissa working…"

"I know you do not agree, but their argument for not telling Starfleet of Miss Abigail's birth is sound," Spock interrupted.

Uhura nodded in agreement. They'd had this conversation before. "What brings you here during the middle of your shift," Uhura asked, leading Spock into the living area.

"It is time for lunch and as Jim is still speaking with the diplomats from Delobian, I thought that I might spend the hour with you."

Smiling, Uhura gently pressed her fingers to Spock's. "That is very sweet, thank you. I did eat before I started singing for Abby, but if you like I can get you something from the replicator."

"That would be appreciated," Spock nodded. He watched her for a moment before speaking again. "I find it pleasing that you and Ensign O'Donnell have cultivated a friendship," he told her as she set his soup down onto the table. "It is still curious to me considering past interactions."

Uhura shrugged, leaving the room to quickly check on Abby before sitting down at the table with Spock. "It's not that curious," Uhura told him. "We've talked about this before Spock."

Tasting his soup, Spock agreed. "We have. But I still do not completely understand."

Taking a small piece of the bread from his plate, Uhura nibbled at it for a moment, composing her thoughts. Sometimes it was very difficult to explain emotions to her lover.

"We're very much a like," Uhura started. Seeing Spock's questioning eyebrow she elaborated somewhat. "We're women on a male dominated ship."

"Males do not dominate females on the _Enterprise_," Spock said, his head cocked in a way that Uhura knew he'd be frowning if he allowed himself any expression.

"Not dominated in that way, but out numbered and for the most part outranked," Uhura corrected. "There are other high ranking female officers, but not on the command team."

"Ensign O'Donnell is not a high ranking officer, nor is she on the command team," Spock pointed out.

"She might as well be, with her relationship with Kirk and what she does for the ship," Uhura countered. "It's only a matter of time before she's officially one of us; one of the command crew. You've even said so yourself," Uhura reminded him. "But that's not really what I meant, either." She paused in thought. "We're both strong women," she started again. "And intelligent. We've worked hard to get where we are and we're at the top of our fields."

"This is correct," Spock agreed. "You are both highly intelligent and motivated individuals."

"And we're both… seeing men who… well, it could be construed that we used our relationships to gain favor," Uhura couldn't bring herself to look at Spock as she said it. It wasn't something she liked to think about, but it was true to a point. Some people did think that even if they have never said anything.

"That is most illogical," Spock said stiffly, his spoon halfway to his mouth.

"Logical or not, some people think it," Uhura shrugged.

"And have you ever heard such rumors?" Spock asked calmly, though Uhura could hear the edge of tension in his voice.

She shook her head quickly. "About me and you? No, nothing. About Marissa and Jim… yes. I've heard a lot of speculation and gossip since they became a couple. Marissa and I have talked about it a little. She tries to turn her cheek, so to speak, but it's hard. Jim's reputation doesn't help, either, but apparently he's really good at showing her how much he cares." Uhura actually gave a huffy laugh. "I never would have thought he had it in him, but I guess he does."

"I do not understand," Spock asked, "what does Jim have in him that reassures Ensign O'Donnell?"

Uhura had to ponder that for a minute. "He has a romantic side, I guess. He's fully devoted to Marissa and I don't think anyone, including Jim, thought he would ever be a one woman type man. Yet now that they're together it seems like the most obvious thing." She shrugged. She could barely understand the transformation Jim seemed to have undergone since he became a captain and then a father; she knew she wasn't explaining it well.

"I see," Spock was nodding. "You see yourself in Ensign O'Donnell and that makes it easier to relate to her now. You're both ambitious, intelligent women in relationships with high ranking men," he reiterated in a way that made her think he was still trying to understand, but was grasping some of her points.

"And we're both stubborn," Uhura said wryly. "What I did… the way I acted and reacted…What caused the problem between me and Marissa in the first place; it was to protect myself – my reputation – and also my family from the fall out of that book and all the publicity that was surrounding it. I wasn't used to - I wasn't _able_ to," she corrected herself, "trust in Jim and see myself as part of a whole rather than an individual. I wasn't able to take one for the team and trust that things would work out in the end." She shrugged. "That was my mistake and it cost us a lot – it cost Jim a lot, but he and I have gotten over that."

"I am aware," Spock told her.

"Marissa… Marissa was just protecting the man she… loved," Uhura continued. "She saw me as the threat and as the person who was hurting him and she… well, she attacked. I can't blame her for that, especially since I was in the wrong. If someone had put you through what Jim went through… I'd scratch their eyes out and ask questions later."

Spock's eyebrow rose to his hairline at her obvious vehemence.

She smiled at him, reaching for his hand and squeezing it briefly. "I can't fault her for loving Jim and trying to protect him. In fact, I respect the hell out of her for even putting up with him," she said with some humor. "He's different now that he's with her. I don't know how to describe it, but…"

"He is not as his reputation has portrayed him," Spock filled in. "I have only known him during the time that he has been involved with Ensign O'Donnell, but he is not like I expected. I knew him to be a fine leader after the events surrounding Nero, but he has been much more… stable… than one might think him capable of based on his past."

"He has changed," Uhura agreed, "but I don't think it's all because of Marissa. He's a master tactician and I think he's always down played his intelligence. He likes to be underestimated; Lord knows I underestimated him." She shrugged again, something she did a lot when trying to understand Jim. "He shows the world one face; only what he wants them to see. Yet now that he's captain, he doesn't have to hide behind that mask. I think we're only just starting to see the real Jim Kirk – captain, friend, father, husband."

"The captain and Ensign O'Donnell are not married," Spock pointed out.

"I know, but they might as well be and calling Jim someone's boyfriend… that just seems wrong. It's just like him, though, to skip the whole dating thing and go straight to being a father and actually be good at it." She laughed. "Most relationships take time and effort, but he and Marissa make it look so easy. Back at the academy I would never have thought that Jim Kirk would ever or could ever, settle down, but here he is, with Marissa and Abby and looking the happiest I've ever seen him. And making captaining a ship and being a father look easy."

"I do not think that either job is easy," Spock said.

"I didn't say they were," Uhura told him. "I just said he makes them look easy. He looks totally right in both roles."

"Yes, he does," Spock agreed with a nod. His head cocked towards the door. "I believe Miss Abigail is waking up," he told her.

Standing, Uhura went into the bedroom and scooped up the baby. "That wasn't a very long rest, Abby," she cooed, snuggling the baby against her and inhaling the intoxicating baby scent. "Did you miss the music?"

Turning, she saw Spock standing in the doorway watching her closely, his hands clasped behind his back and his head cocked slightly. "You are very good with her," he finally said.

Uhura smiled. Abby was still somewhat fussy as she bobbed her face against Uhura's shoulder. Almost unconsciously, Uhura began to sway and rhythmically pat the infant's back. "I love babies," she told him with a small smile. "I miss my nieces and nephews. I would always babysit when I was growing up. With five older sisters there was always someone who needed help."

"I see," Spock nodded. He tilted his head to the other side. "And would you like to have a child of your own someday," he asked.

His question, calmly and matter-of-factly spoken, startled her so much that she stopped moving and stared at him, a blush spreading over her cheeks. "I… well…" she stammered. "Yes, someday I would like to have a child or two," she admitted. "Not yet; not anytime soon, but… after seeing Marissa and being around Abby… yes, this is something that I want."

Spock nodded. "That is most logical. I find that I too would like to experience fatherhood."

Uhura felt a huge smile spread across her face, her heart fluttering wildly.

"But not yet," Spock qualified.

"No, not yet," Uhura agreed, nodding, "but…"

"Someday," Spock nodded in return. "Now, I will take the child and you will play the lyre and we shall see if she will calm down and perhaps rest again. I do not have to be on the bridge for another thirty three minutes."

Handing Abby over to Spock, Uhura helped him cradle her in his arms, her head resting at the crook of his elbow and her little bottom in palm. "She is very small and light," he commented, looking down at the infant.

"Yes, she is," Uhura agreed, blinking furiously as he watched Spock lightly trace the infant's face with one finger. "McCoy says she's in the twenty-fifth percentile for weight and height, so she's small, but not too small."

"Something she has inherited from her mother," Spock commented absently, still staring down at Abby. "She likes to be held," he stated. Uhura nodded and began to stroke the lyre. "And I believe that she likes music. She is most content now."

Uhura smiled as she began to sing. She was pretty content now, too.

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	4. Chapter 4 Sulu

**First Impressions and Quality Time**

**Chapter 4 - Sulu**

"Sulu!" a loud, familiar voice boomed over his shoulder, its corresponding hand slapping him on his back making him almost spill his drink.

"Captain," he replied mildly, rolling his eyes.

Kirk wandered around the couch and plopped himself down next to the helmsman, his bright eyes taking in the crowd of crewmen currently occupying the _Enterprises'_ largest recreation room. The entertainment committee, led by Kirk's yeoman, Janice Rand, had set up another social, which really amounted to a reason to drink and dance and gossip.

"How's Ludovik coming along with his training?" Kirk asked over the music.

Sulu sighed. "Fine, Captain." Of course that was really stretching the truth a bit far.

Apparently Pieter Ludovik had always wanted to be a pilot, so after almost nine months on the _Enterprise_ he had worked up the gumption to ask his captain if maybe, possibly, he could get some cross training so that when his stint on the _Enterprise_ was over he could enter the Academy's officer training program. Apparently being a lowly crewman in the botany labs wasn't enough to make him happy. The captain, always one to want to see his crew reach their full potential, had pawned Ludovik off on Sulu, much to the pilot's disgust. He blamed the impending birth of Kirk's child; the man wasn't thinking properly or he never would have even considered letting Ludovik steer a hovercar let alone a starship.

"That bad, huh?" Jim grinned, giving him a sideways glance.

"Not that bad," Sulu admitted with a huff, "just not… good," he hedged. "The man has no reflexes and a pilot really needs those. He knows all the rules and regulations, but he has to stop and think about them before he reacts. He's just not quick enough, sir."

Kirk slapped him on the back again as he stood up quickly, his eyes now trained across the room on Ensign O'Donnell who had just entered with a small bundle in her arms. "Give him some time, Lieutenant. I appreciate you helping him out. He'll come around. Not everyone is a natural like you," Kirk told him before walking away.

Sulu felt himself flushing lightly at the captain's praise. He knew he was a good pilot, but it was nice to hear that the captain realized it, too.

Sipping his drink, Sulu watched as Kirk approached Ensign O'Donnell. Theirs was a strange relationship that had the ship's grapevine going crazy. Now that Abby had been born it had quieted some, but they were still a hot topic. He watched as the ensign lit up as Kirk approached and took the baby from her arms while leaning in to give her a gentle kiss.

Sulu had been two years ahead of Jim at the Academy, having enlisted right out of high school, so while he knew of the Jim Kirk reputation – who didn't within six months of Kirk's joining? – He hadn't really known Kirk until they began their tour together on the _Enterprise_ with Kirk as captain and Sulu as part of his command team.

The man was cocky, sure, but he always asked for and listened to the opinions of others. He seemed to take things less than seriously most of the time, but when it came down to a fight or a hard decision there was no doubt that he was in charge. No one, not even diplomats with decades more experience, doubted Kirk's word. And he was always there for his crew – encouraging them, listening to them, coaching them, but conversely, not afraid to ask questions of those more experienced than him.

The man had an amazing memory and seemed to know the name and occupation of each crewmember he came across and often he even knew about their family, their hometown or sometimes their favorite pet! He was a captain that led from the front, not as a figurehead, and Sulu could appreciate that.

But honestly, Kirk had had his loyalty the moment he jumped off that drill to try to rescue him. He had leapt without a second thought because, as he had told Sulu later when he'd finally worked up the nerve to ask, Sulu was his wingman and they'd made it that far, he wasn't about to let a little thing like gravity get in the way. Besides, Kirk had added with a wink, the parachute was supposed to have worked. Being asked to be part of Kirk's newly formed command team had only cemented Sulu's loyalty.

Kirk was not only a good captain, but a good man, in Sulu's opinion. He'd heard all about his reputation; heard Kirk and others tell stories about his escapades in the Academy and as a child, but the image of the wild cadet was hard to reconcile with the steadfast, always in charge Kirk he worked with on a daily basis.

Shaking his head, Sulu downed his drink. Jim Kirk was a puzzling man, but a damn good captain. And as long as he didn't foist any more pilot-wannabees at him, he'd be happy.

"Zey are happy, da?" Chekov asked as he sat down, surprising Sulu.

"Who?" Sulu asked, trying to contain a blush as he looked over at the curly haired navigator.

"Ze captain and his… his wittle family," Chekov shrugged as he struggled for words. Sulu had the distinct impression that it wasn't a language barrier that was keeping Chekov from finding the right description.

"Yes, I think they're happy," Sulu agreed, his eyes back on the captain. "I haven't known him for very long, but when he brought Abby out just after she was born… well, the look on his face reminded me of my brother when my nephew was born. And he gets the same sappy, adoring look when he looks at Ensign O'Donnell too."

Chekov snickered. "Even when she is arguing wif him."

"Especially if she is," Sulu agreed with a grin. He glanced around the room so as not to stare at Chekov and quickly noticed the two crewwomen who were looking their way and giggling, one nudging the other one in the shoulder. His grin faded. Chekov's fan club had arrived. Ever since the young man had turned eighteen several months ago, the number of women who were showing an interest in the navigator had increased exponentially. Sulu couldn't fault them their interest. It had to be the curly hair, or maybe the puppy dog eyes, or possibly the heavy accent. Still, that didn't mean Sulu had to like it, even if was none of his business.

He nudged Chekov with his elbow and nodded his head casually in the women's direction. "Looks like you have some admirers," he teased.

Glancing over, Chekov blushed and then sunk down into his seat, using Sulu as a human shield. "I am not interested," he mumbled.

"Why not?" Sulu asked, surprised.

Chekov shrugged. "Crewmember Read has been most persistent and I… she does not interest me. She is too old."

Sulu chuckled. "Everyone's older than you, Chekov. Read can't be more than twenty or twenty-one. And she's attractive. I'm sure if you asked her to dance she would say yes." He wanted to kick himself for saying that, but truly, the boy – young man – needed to live a little.

"I do not want to dance," Chekov pouted. "I am not interested in girls… like her."

Sulu looked over at his friend suspiciously. Had he just imagined that brief pause? Chekov cheeks were bright red, but that could be because of the teasing.

"Well then, don't dance," Sulu shrugged, deliberately putting that question aside. "No one's going to force you too."

"But if zey ask it would be rude to say no," he whined.

"One dance won't kill you," Sulu pointed out. He was enjoying his friend's distress – just a little bit.

"You are no help!"

Sulu shrugged again, looking over at the women and then at Chekov. "You better make up your mind. Read's on her way over. And it's a slow song."

Chekov just sunk further into his seat, but when the young woman asked him to dance he agreed, blushing furiously and glaring at Sulu as he followed her onto the floor.

"What did you do to Chekov?" Kirk's voice interrupted his thoughts as he took the vacated seat, baby Abby cradled in his arm casually, like he'd been holding babies all his life.

"Nothing," Sulu replied with a smirk. "I told him he should dance with Read."

Kirk watched the two of them dance for a moment, Chekov looking distinctly uncomfortable. "I don't think Read's his type," Jim finally commented, giving Sulu a sideways look.

"Still, it won't kill him," Sulu pointed out.

"I don't know," Kirk pondered thoughtfully. "Is it possible to blush to death? I'll have to ask Bones."

Sulu couldn't help snorting at his captain's deadpan delivery. It was true; Chekov was bright red as he tried to keep Read at a distance even as she draped herself all over him. He fought the urge to growl at how hands-y she was becoming.

"Look, I want to dance," Kirk interrupted Sulu's thought.

Nonplussed, Sulu looked at his captain, agape. "Excuse me?" he asked, sure he'd heard wrong.

"Not with you," Kirk laughed, "though maybe later if you really want to," he winked and Sulu laughed with him. "With Marissa," he clarified.

"I don't think you need my permission for that," Sulu pointed out.

"I know that," Kirk rolled his eyes. "I need someone to watch Abby and I can't find Bones, Spock and Uhura are dancing, and Chapel and Rand are nowhere to be seen. Do you mind?" he asked, glancing down at the pink bundle in his arms.

"Uh…" Sulu hesitated, simultaneously flattered and scared. Abby was only about a month old and as far as he knew only McCoy, Uhura, Chapel and Rand had ever held the infant. He had no experience with babies; he'd only held his nephew once, for maybe a minute, before his sister-in-law had snatched him away.

"Great!" Kirk was suddenly shifting the surprisingly light bundle into his arms. "She's sleeping so she shouldn't be too much trouble. Just don't drop her and don't let anyone else hold her, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Sulu muttered, looking down into the blanket. "Nice to know I'm on the list somewhere."

"Of course you are," Kirk smiled, slapping him on the shoulder much more gently this time. "I'll be back. Eventually."

Sulu watched him walk up behind Ensign O'Donnell and snag her around the waist as she was talking to some of her friends. She glanced over at him and back at Jim, obviously concerned, either for her child – which was just insulting – or for him, which was rather considerate since Kirk hadn't really asked his opinion. In the end Kirk persuaded her onto the dance floor and they became lost in the crowd.

Looking back down at the bundle in his arms, Sulu felt himself grinning. She was a cute little thing. Very tiny. She was so bundled up all he could see was her round face with its button nose and pursed lips. Shifting so his arm was more comfortable, he sat back and watched his fellow crewmen enjoy themselves.

The song wasn't even half over before the bundle in his arms started shifting. Praying that she was still sleeping, he looked down into the bluest eyes he'd ever seen – except on the captain. Now what? He barely knew what to do with a sleeping infant. What was he supposed to do with one that was awake?

He didn't have much time to contemplate it before he was descended upon by what felt like every female on the ship. All were cooing and ahhing over the baby who didn't seem to be enjoying all the faces suddenly peering at her.

"Ladies," he said, his voice pitched so as not to startle Abby, but also to be heard over the music, "ladies, please! She was sleeping and if you could just give her some space maybe she'll go back to sleep."

"Can I hold her?"

"I can rock her back to sleep."

"Isn't she precious?"

"Why don't you…"

Requests and advice were suddenly being offered from every woman around him.

"Ladies!" he practically bellowed, which startled Abby even further and caused her face to scrunch up in what could not be a good way. "Please, the captain asked me to watch over her. I'm not going let anyone else hold her and I don't need any advice. Please just give us some room."

Eventually they left. Sulu was rather proud of himself for managing to get rid of them, until he saw McCoy standing to his left glaring at the women. He didn't have much time to think of the doctor because Abby decided that she wasn't happy and started to cry.

"Shhh, shhh," Sulu said softly as he shifted her against his shoulder. "Don't cry Abby. Don't cry."

"She likes her back rubbed," McCoy told him, taking the seat next to him.

He immediately began rubbing what he hoped were soothing circles on her small back. Her cries stopped, but her head continued to bob against his shoulder, her legs pushing against his chest.

"Do you want her?" he asked McCoy hopefully.

"Naw," McCoy smiled, sipping his drink and crossing an ankle over his knee. "You're doing fine. Besides, Jim trusted you with her."

Sulu rolled his eyes. "He just wanted to dance with Ensign O'Donnell."

"Course he did."

"I was his only option."

"He wouldn't have given his little girl over to you if he didn't trust you," McCoy pointed out.

Struggling to balance Abby and straighten the blanket that had become knotted around her legs, Sulu felt himself flush. Only a handful of people had been able to hold Kirk's daughter and he was now one of them. It was a sign of trust.

Untucking the blanket, Sulu draped it over Abby's back and legs as he continued to rub her back, one hand resting on her diapered bottom in support.

He and McCoy didn't speak any more as they watched the dance floor. The music changed and they both chuckled as Chekov beat a hasty retreat towards them and away from Read. His steps faltered as he saw Sulu covered in a pink blanket.

"You are holding Abby," he said, sounding dumbfounded.

"Looks like it," Sulu said dryly.

"Where is ze keptin?"

"Still dancing, I guess."

Chekov reached out a tentatively hand, gently stroking the small head resting against Sulu's shoulder once again fast asleep.

"Zis is a true honor," Chekov said in awe, looking up at Sulu and smiling.

"I know," Sulu answered; smiling when a small breath huffed against his neck.

Jim Kirk trusted him; not only with his ship, but with his daughter. It was truly an honor.

_Please review._

_And on that note – thank you to all of you who have reviewed. I really appreciate it. A lot._

_To answer some questions and to let you all know where I'm going with all this: _

_Yes, there will be a Pike chapter (it was actually the first one I wrote, but then I decided to go in chronological order.) There will also be further Spock (not written yet), Scotty and Chekov (already written) chapters still to come. I plan to have Abby meet Marissa's family and Jim's brother and mother, though Winona is a bit off in the future. There are also a couple of surprises, too._

_As for will I be writing a longer chaptered fic with an actual plot – the meal, so to speak. ;-) I do have plans for one and it is still percolating in my brain. I'm hoping I can get most of FIaQT chapters finished during NaNoWriMo and at least an outline for what I'm tentatively calling Complications. It should be pretty meaty, but as a warning – I work retail and the holidays are coming. I will do my best to get Complications up and running, but I make no promises. You're going to have to be satisfied with weekly doses of FIaQT for now. I do have 5 or 6 chapters already written…_

_Thanks for reading and reviewing! - RA_


	5. Chapter 5 Chekov

**First Impressions and Quality Time**

**Chekov**

"Chekov! Psst! Chekov," Jim's head peeked out of his ready room. It was late in beta shift and the bridge was mostly deserted. They had been in warp for twelve hours and had another eight to go, so there was no need for a full compliment of on duty crew at the moment.

Swiveling in his chair, Chekov looked over at his captain. "Yes, keptin?" he asked, sharing a glance with McKenna who was currently in the pilot's seat and also looking curiously at their captain.

"Come here," Jim motioned, still whispering.

Confused, Chekov walked over.

"Here," Jim said without any preliminaries, shoving Abby into his arms. "Watch her for me, will you?"

"B…but…" Chekov stuttered, adjusting his hold on the infant.

"I don't have time," Jim told him, glancing behind him. Chekov could hear a monotonous voice coming from the room. "Barnett called an all ships meeting. Spock should be here soon for it, Uhura is probably asleep. Rand just left and I really don't want to call her back. Bones is on shift. Marissa is resting. Just watch her for me until this stupid thing is over. There's a bottle in the bag," he handed Chekov the diaper bag. "If she gets upset before the meeting's over you can take her to Marissa, but I really want her to get some more rest, so don't bother her unless you have to, okay?"

"O…okay, Keptin," Chekov nodded, nonplussed, but Jim really didn't give him a choice. Stunned, Chekov wandered back over to his chair and sat down heavily, Abby sleeping soundly in his arms.

"Now what are you going to do?" McKenna asked him with a smirk.

"I don't know," Chekov replied, looking down at the sleeping baby in his arms. "I haf never held a baby before," he admitted, looking over at McKenna with wide eyes.

"Don't look at me," he replied, shaking his head and holding up his hands as if to ward him off. "I hate kids. Especially babies. She might be the captain's and all, but I have no interest in holding her. Just keep her quiet and we'll be fine."

"She's sleeping," Chekov pointed out.

"Well, keep her that way," McKenna shot back, turning to his console and plugging in an equation, making himself look busy.

Chekov shrugged. It wasn't so bad, holding Abby. He considered calling Sulu, but decided against it. He was man enough to take care of an infant for an hour or two.

In the end it was more like three hours, but Chekov did just fine. She slept for the first hour and he simply sat in his chair alternately watching the stars and his read outs. Really, there was nothing for him to do, he just had to be present in case something actually did happen and they were pulled out of warp.

She fussed a bit when she first woke up, which caused McKenna no end of frustration and him a lot of consternation. He tried walking her, he tried patting her back. When McKenna finally suggested that he try changing her diaper he blanched slightly, but managed to find the necessary equipment. She seemed happier once she was changed, so he propped her up in his lap and talked to her.

He started in English, but changed to Russian when McKenna scoffed at him for telling a fairy tale to a newborn. It was rather freeing, actually. Once he finished his story he started telling her about his family and why he decided to join Starfleet. He told her all about his friends on the crew and how the captain had made an extra effort to see that he was comfortable. He told her things he had never said to anyone else.

All through his monologue Abby stared at him, her hands occasionally waving. He played with her fingers and toes, reciting old nursery rhymes that his grandmother used to tell him. It was the best shift he'd ever had. Only having Sulu next to him would have made it better.

Eventually it became obvious that she was hungry. He managed to find the bottle the captain had mentioned with one hand digging around in the humongous diaper bag. How could one small infant need so much? It took him a minute to figure out the warming apparatus, but once he placed the nipple in her mouth she eagerly set to it, her eyes closing and her body relaxing in his arms.

"That's it, kotik," he cooed. "Is that what you wanted? Your daddy should be done soon, I tink. Admiral Barrett, he can talk for a long time." Stroking her face gently, he smiled down at the infant. "That's good, kotik. You are a wery lucky wittle girl, you know that?"

Bottle finished, her propped her up onto his shoulder as he'd seen the captain do. Patting her back and humming under his breath, he felt rather than heard her burp. What he wasn't prepared for was the warm feeling now seeping through his shirt.

Just then the door to the ready room swooshed open and the captain and Spock stepped out. "Thanks Chek…" he began, but then started laughing. "She got you did she?" Reaching into the diaper bag, Jim pulled out a towel and began cleaning off Chekov's shoulder. "Sorry about that," he said.

"It is okay, keptin," Chekov protested, standing up with Abby. "I am fine. Really."

Taking Abby from his arms, Jim gave Chekov a slap on the back. "Thanks for watching her. I owe you one."

Shaking his head, Chekov blushed. "It was no problem."

xXx

A couple weeks later found Chekov, Scotty, and Spock gathered in the Captain's ready room for an informal discussion about the Ibaran device they had been investigating for months. If anyone was surprised to see Jim walk in with Abby they didn't say anything. They all knew that Marissa was coordinating with the _Antares_ about the final stages of their contact mission.

Since his night babysitting Abby on the bridge, Chekov had made it a point to stop by and chat with Marissa whenever his off duty hours coincided with the unofficial visiting hours for Abby. He found that he enjoyed talking with Marissa about history – she was surprisingly very well versed in Russian history for a xenohistorian – and they had many interesting discussions while Abby played on the couch between them.

It was almost like having a sister to talk with, he imagined. She'd even broached the topic of Sulu once, but had backed off when he began to stutter and blush. Patting his hand comfortingly, she had changed the topic, but he had the distinct impression that it wouldn't be for long and that made him both terrified and relieved. He really needed to talk to someone about his feelings for his friend and colleague.

"Thanks for coming, guys," Jim nodded around the table, interrupting Chekov's thoughts. "Marissa's busy with the _Antares_, so Abby's with me. Hope you don't mind."

"I don't think it will be a problem, Captain," Spock nodded. "This is hardly an official meeting."

"True," Jim agreed, shifting Abby in his lap to face the others. He did his best to pretend he didn't see Chekov waving at her and making faces. "All right, Scotty, what's your latest grand idea?"

"Weel, Capt'n" Scotty began, rubbing his hands together gleefully, sitting to Jim's left. "I've been talking with the lad here," he nodded to Chekov, "and we think we can boost our warp drive by ten to fifteen percent if we…"

Abby, content until Scotty started speaking began to whimper and then cry, causing Scotty to stop and everyone to stare at her and Jim. She was generally a fairly laid back baby, only fussing when she was hungry or wet – which couldn't be the case at the moment as she'd just eaten and had her diaper changed.

"Shhh, shhhh, Abby," Jim cajoled, offering her a toy as they watched. "That's a good girl. Shhhh. Let Mr. Scott talk."

She quieted down quickly and Scotty began again, but her silence didn't last.

"I'm sorry Scotty," Jim apologized, standing up. "I'll see if Rand is available."

"Fifteen minutes, Captain," Rand replied when he contacted her. "I'm just finishing up the weeklies for Command."

"That will be fine, Janice. I'm sorry to interrupt…"

"It's no problem, Captain," Janice replied, a smile obvious in her tone of voice. "I'll take her to visit Christine if Medical's not too busy."

"Sounds great. Kirk out." Jim turned back to the men sitting around the table and nodded to Scotty. "I'll walk with her while you talk, Scotty."

"Aye Captain," Scotty agreed, his enthusiasm waning a bit. "As I was saying, we can increase our warp capabilities…."

They did their best to listen to the chief engineer, but Abby was making it difficult for them. She was whining and crying against Jim's shoulder, bumping her face unhappily against his chest. She didn't seem to want to be cradled in his arms like she did when she was tired and she didn't want to be propped face out, her back to his chest, so that she could observe what was going on. She didn't want a bottle and all the walking and patting he was doing didn't seem to have any affect. She was just unhappy.

Chekov had to stop himself from offering to take her. The captain was doing all he could, it was unlikely that Chekov could do better, though he really wanted to try.

Scotty's voice became quieter as he watched the captain juggle the baby. Jim had to move closer in order to hear over the noise Abby was making. It didn't really help because Abby just became louder in her displeasure. Jim kept glancing over at Spock obviously hoping that he was understanding everything and would be able to explain the details that he was missing later.

Eventually the engineer finished his part of the explanation and passed it off to Chekov who had done some calculations of his own. It really was fascinating and if they could modify the machine they had investigated on Ibara this could have long reaching repercussions on warp technology. Of course, they'd have to start small and it probably wasn't necessary to inform Starfleet about what they were thinking at this point. After all, part of their mission, aside from seeking out new civilizations and all that, was to document new theories and technology and experiment with the effects such things might have on Federation technology. And if they could pull this off, well, it was a win-win for everyone!

At some point in the discussion Abby had quieted down and was now contentedly gumming on Jim's thumb, her body relaxed against him. They hadn't even noticed when she'd decided not to be upset because they were all so intrigued by what Chekov was saying.

Jim still handed Abby off to Rand when she entered his ready room. After all, if she was planning to go visit Christine she would need as much ammunition as possible; the captain was a brilliant strategist and a good boss, he was only helping his yeoman out. No one could resist a baby, especially one as cute as Abby. Besides, they still had to talk logistics and supplies.

_Please Review. This is actually two chapters smashed together. I hope it worked. As stand alones they were way to short and while the first part is obviously Chekov, the second part was kinda Chekov and kinda Scotty and… well, I just didn't want to post to short chapters back to back._

_Happy Thanksgiving to all the Americans reading. Gobble, Gobble._


	6. Chapter 6 Scotty part 2

**First Impressions and Quality Time**

**Scotty – Part 2**

Jim made his way down to the shuttle bay, Abby perched on his hip. He was off duty and Marissa was having a girl's night with Uhura, Rand, Christine and some of the girls from cartography and the library, so he was thankful for the distraction when Scotty asked to meet him.

At first he couldn't find the man, but he just followed the sound of off key whistling.

"Scotty," Jim called out once he was at the entrance to one of the shuttles that were housed here. "What's up man?"

"Capt'n!" Scotty's head popped out of the doorway. "And you've brought the wee lassie as weel. Excellent. Come in, come in. I have a little modification to show you."

Ducking his head, Jim made his way onto the shuttle. "What have you been up to?" he asked, looking around to see if he could spot anything that could be one of Scotty's 'special' modifications. "And why haven't you told me about it before?"

"Weel," Scotty began, rocking on his heals and looking a bit nervous. "I wanted it ta be a surprise for you and your lass – and the wee lassie."

"Okay…." Jim said slowly, still looking around. "What is it?"

"See, I know the lass is feeling pretty cooped up on the ship," Scotty said, "and with us visiting Belgernon II in a week it would be the perfect opportunity for her and the wee lassie to get off the ship and stretch their legs, so to speak. I know everyone is rotating through at least a day's leave on planet. It is a beautiful place, sir, the cities are small and the air is clean. I'm not one for the liquor laws, but still, the lass should be able to leave the ship."

Jim frowned, patting Abby's back as she began to press her face into his shoulder and whimper. Apparently she didn't care for shuttles. "I know Scotty. I agree. And Marissa and I have discussed this, but neither of us feels comfortable with the idea of taking Abby through the transporter and while shuttles will be going to the surface we don't have the proper safety equipment for an infant to take a shuttle. Not into that kind of atmosphere. It's a beautiful planet, but their upper atmosphere is a bitch to navigate through. You know that."

"Aye, I do," Scotty agreed, nodded. "That's why I put this together…" Standing back slightly, he pulled a sheet off of what was now essentially an infant seat strapped into a shuttle seat. "The wee lassie will be perfectly safe in this here," he said proudly. "It has a five point safety harness, neck braces and in case of decompression there are shields that activate and surround the wee lassie so she's protected from vacuum with her own three hour air supply."

"Wow, Scotty," Jim said, awed by his engineer's thoughtfulness. "That's… this is… this is amazing," he told the man. Abby was still fussing, but Jim ignored it in order to get a better look at the seat, his brain spinning. They could go down to Belgernon II as a family. He had a meeting with the Prime Minister the first day, but that was just a formality. After that he had four days that he could now spend with Marissa and Abby as a family on the planet, while the _Enterprise's_ crew enjoyed their own R&R.

"Can we try it out?" Jim asked excitedly. "See how she likes it?"

"Of course, Capt'n," Scotty told him. "It's pretty easy. Just plop her down in the seat, attach the harness like you normally would and she's good and secure." Moving out of the way, Scotty knelt against the back of the seat in front of Abby's new chair to watch Jim maneuver Abby into position.

She didn't seem to mind the new chair with its straps and buckles, looking at her father as he smiled and made faces at her.

"What do you think, Abby-girl? Think you can stay in this for an hour or two? Hmmmm?" he adjusted the neck brace. "We might have to time this for her nap time, right after she's eaten," Jim commented, sitting back and looking at the seat. "She's not used to being strapped into something and when she's awake she's used to being carried."

"Weel, I thought of that, Capt'n" Scotty smiled leaning forward. "That's why I installed this." The engineer leaned forward as he was speaking and extracted something that was wedged between the shuttle wall and the seat.

Abby, not liking having someone suddenly so close to her began to cry, causing Scotty to startle and bang his head. Jim tried not to laugh as Scotty bit back his curses and brought the hidden object forward. It was another version of the mobile Scotty had made to go over Abby's crib, complete with shiny objects and noise makers. Abby immediately reached for it when it was locked into place in front of her.

"See, the wee lassie likes it," Scotty declared.

Abby's attention wavered from the new toy to the engineer and her lip began to tremble, but Jim grabbed one of the toys and made it squeak, distracting her from the crying fit she seemed to be working towards.

"It's awesome, Scotty," Jim said, pulling back to stand in the aisle and slapping the engineer on the back. "I can't wait to tell Marissa. She really wanted to see Belgernon – apparently there's a museum that chronicles their past and is run by some historian that is known across the universe… if you run in those types of circles." Jim shrugged causing Scotty to chuckle.

"I'm sure you'll enjoy it too, Capt'n," Scotty told him, still chuckling.

"Somehow, I don't think so, but she's excited about it so…"

"You have to do what you have to do," Scotty said sympathetically.

"Exactly."

"Captain," Spock's voice echoed from the communicator on the shuttle wall.

"Yes, Spock," Jim answered once he reached the panel.

"Admiral Pike would like a brief moment of your time. I can patch him through to the shuttle data port, if you like."

Glancing at Abby playing in her chair and back at the communication panel, Jim absently shook his head. "Not here, Spock. I have Abby. Can you patch him to the shuttle bay panel – number two? I'll be there in a minute."

"Of course, Captain. Spock out."

"Look, Scotty," Jim said, turning quickly to the engineer. "I've got to take this."

"Of course."

"Can you watch Abby? She seems pretty happy for now. It shouldn't take long – not if Pike is willing to be patched to a comm. panel," he ran a hand through his hair uncomfortably. He didn't like leaving Abby, but he had to talk with Pike.

"We'll be just fine, Capt'n," Scotty told him. "She's happy now. Go and talk to the admiral."

"Okay," Jim hesitated, "just… just leave her in the chair; unless she starts getting too upset. I won't…"

"Go Capt'n," the scot urged. "The sooner ye go, the sooner ye get back. I'll watch over the wee lassie."

Jim nodded and left. Pike only had two quick questions for him. He was only gone five minutes at the most, but by the time he got back to the shuttle he could hear Abby's cries before he even stepped on board.

"The wee lassie, she started getting upset after ye left," Scotty explained, looking decidedly rumpled as he handed over the crying child. "I tried to get her interested in the toys but she was having none o' that and I didn't want her to come to hate the seat, so I took her out and tried to calm her like I've seen ye do, but that didn't seem to work and …."

"Scotty!" Jim interrupted, reaching out a hand and putting it on the anxious man's shoulders. "It's okay. Sometimes she just gets fussy and doesn't want to be calmed down," he told him.

"Weel, I understand that Capt'n, I truly do," Scotty said, slumping back against a seat, "but I'm thinking the wee lassie hates me."

Jim shook his head. Abby was already quieting down, just hiccoughing against his chest. "That's not true. She's a baby. She doesn't hate anyone."

"She's calmed down for you," Scotty pointed out.

"Well, I'm her dad. She's used to me."

"And she doesn't cry when Spock or Uhura hold her."

"Well…she's around them more," Jim countered, surprised to see how disappointed Scotty looked. "She's just not used to you yet. Maybe. It's not that she doesn't like you."

"Believe what you want, Capt'n, but I don't think the wee lassie likes me a'tall," Scotty said despondently. "She always cries when I'm around."

"She does not," Jim countered, though he didn't look like he believed what he was saying.

"Aye, she does," Scotty said sadly, moving past Jim to the shuttle's exit. "Do me a favor, Capt'n?"

"Of course," Jim replied. "After all you've done for us – this seat is amazing – anything, Scotty."

"Can ye try to make sure that the next one's a boy?"

"Next one?" Jim repeated, nonplussed.

"Aye, the wee lassie needs a playmate and I'd be much obliged if you could manage a boy – I think I can win a boy over, but I've no idea how to get the lassie to like me."

"Uh, sure, Scotty," Jim nodded, still feeling totally surprised by Scotty's request and the thought of actually having another child. "I'll… I'll do my best."

Scotty smiled. "Thank ye, capt'n."

Jim watched him walk away, Abby now gumming on his shirt. Looking down, Jim looked into bright blue eyes, so much like his own. "Huh. A playmate, eh? What do you think about that, Abby-girl?" Shaking his head, Jim called out. "Scotty!"

The man turned and waited.

"Thanks for the seat. It really means a lot to Marissa and me. And…don't worry about Abby. She'll warm up to you. All girls like men with accents. Eventually," Jim smirked.

Scotty laughed and waved a hand as he walked away. Jim thought he might possibly be blushing.

"Shall we go tell mommy the good news?" Jim asked Abby, stepping down from the shuttle exit and moving towards the lifts. "We get to visit a planet together! It will be so much fun. There will be sun and grass and animals and wind. You're going to love it. We'll have to spend some time in a boring old museum, but try not to complain too much, okay? Your mommy will be really excited about it and we don't want to spoil her fun, now do we?"

Abby made no reply, just continued to drool on his shirt. Jim didn't mind. He couldn't wait to see the look on Marissa's face when he told her that they'd being going down to the planet together. This was going to be so much fun. Maybe he should see if Spock and Uhura would be willing to babysit for a night…

_Please review_


	7. Chapter 7 Jim Kirk

**Quality Time and First Impressions**

**Chapter 7 – Jim Kirk**

**This chapter is a bit darker… you are warned.**

He looked around the rolling green hills dotted with crimson and blue flowers and couldn't help but smirk. They called this paradise, did they? Well, he didn't believe it. A black bird with white tipped wings soared over his head in the blue, blue sky, its cawing voice even pleasant to his ears, yet his fingers itched for his phaser.

A goddamn utopia. Everyone was equal. Everyone was happy. Everyone was prosperous. And everyone was stupid in his opinion.

Grabbing his comm. from his hip, he casually flipped it open, his smirk morphing into a sneer. He'd see about that.

"Kirk to Enterprise!" he barked. "Beam me out now." It took a moment longer than it should, but soon he was enveloped in the pearlescent lights and he felt his body dissolve and reform.

As soon as he rematerialized on the transporter pad he immediately went on alert, his stomach clenching, his blood pumping, and his body ready for a fight – never flight. Something was not right and he instinctively knew it in the split second it took for him to gain his balance after transporting. Remaining still, he looked cautiously around him, sniffing the air. Something was off, but he couldn't place it. This looked like his transporter room but…

"Nice outfit, Captain," a humorous voice called out from behind the transporter controls. "They give you that shirt and scarf down there?"

Moving only his eyes, Kirk looked speculatively at the unfamiliar young man reclining casually, his hands resting across his belly casually as he leaned back in his chair. He didn't recognize this… boy… at all.

"Who the hell are you?" he snapped in his best captain's don't-fuck-with-me-or-I-will-end-you voice.

The boy looked at him curiously. "Ensign Jacobs – sir," he added as an after thought. "Did they give you something weird to drink or eat? Should I call Dr. McCoy…?"

"Shut up, Jacobs," Kirk snarled, making a quick decision. "I don't need McCoy. I'm fine." The ensign continued to look at him worriedly, so Kirk moved off the pad menacingly, looming over the boy who didn't even look the least bit frightened, only slightly confused. "What time is it?" he snapped.

"Uh, gamma shift just started."

"Sir," Kirk growled.

"Excuse me?" Jacob asked in confusion.

"You will address any senior officer on this ship as 'sir' when you speak to them," Kirk clarified, his eyes narrowed.

"Yes, sir," the boy responded with a short bewildered laugh. Still he didn't look the least bit scared. What the hell was going on?

Without another word, Kirk turned and left the transporter room heading towards his quarters. Something was wrong; really, really wrong. He didn't recognize Ensign Jacobs at all. The boy was unafraid of him and didn't have any scars or marks for someone who had made it onto the _Enterprise_ at such a young age. He'd actually laughed at his captain – twice! And his uniform; wrong shirt, no sash, no weapon of any kind visible. Someone that young and pretty had to have a way of defending himself from the predators on this ship.

He thought briefly about going to medical to discuss this with McCoy, but then realized that at the beginning of gamma shift McCoy would be in his own quarters – probably with a plaything – and even he didn't like to disturb his CMO on his leisure time.

Waving his hand at the recognition sensor on his door, Kirk stalked through the living area of his quarters and directly to his personal office. It wasn't until he was sitting at his desk, lights at one hundred percent, that he actually looked around.

What the fuck, was all his mind could come up with. This was not his office. This room was larger than his. There was another fucking desk perpendicular to his with shelves overflowing with PADDs and actual made-of-fucking-paper books. There was a map of the universe on one wall and actual… pictures on another.

Standing slowly, he cautiously made his way over to the picture wall, all the hairs on his body standing on end as he took in the strangeness of this room. He'd been let into the quarters without a question, his print working without a problem. His voice had activated the lights and the computer sitting on his… the desk, but this definitely wasn't his room.

His booted foot stepped on something that squeaked and his hand went for his knife without a second thought. Looking down he gently toed the object – a plastic toy – that had apparently not made it into the box resting against the wall; a box that seemed to be filled with more toys.

What. The. Fuck.

Ignoring the incongruity of toys in his office, or toys on the _Enterprise_ at all, he continued to the picture wall. He shouldn't have been surprised to find pictures of a baby there, but he was. There were dozens of pictures, some framed, some taped to the wall with adhesive, others tucked into the edges of the frames. All seemed to feature the same child; a girl with fuzzy brown hair and his blue eyes.

In the center of the picture collage was a photo that nearly stopped his heart. It was a rectangular frame with cut outs for three pictures. The first showed a woman he didn't recognize holding what had to be a newborn baby; its face was red and squishy and the woman looked a lot worse for wear, her brown hair frizzy, reclining tiredly in what had to be a biobed. She looked exhausted, but happy; the smile on her face one he had never seen in his life it was so innocent.

It was the next two pictures that really threw him for a loop because the face in them looked exactly like him, but it wasn't, couldn't be him. In the center picture the man that wasn't him was propped up on the biobed, one arm around the woman and a hand resting on the blanket wrapped bundle. And he was smiling. And he looked happy.

The expression on Not Him's face in the third picture actually made Kirk sneer. He looked so dopily happy as he stared down at the newborn that it made him want to throw up. He had never looked that stupid in his entire life.

Still, like watching a hovercar wreck, he was unable to look away from the pictures on the wall. The baby was in all of them, sometimes alone and sometimes with its sappily happy parents. Everyone was always smiling or looking adorably at the little rat. It was when he came to a set of pictures that featured his command team that he had another jolt of adrenaline fueled recognition.

There was Spock and Uhura, Sulu, Chekov and even Scotty holding the damn thing. He recognized them all, but they looked nothing like the command team he knew. They were all smiling; even Spock looked like he was about to crack a smile. And Uhura was all gooey eyed as she looked down at the infant, an expression Kirk had never seen on the cut throat, I'll-rip-off-your-balls-if-you-even-think-of-me-as-a-helpless-female Uhura. She just did not do gooey; hard ass and cut throat, yes; gooey no.

This wasn't his ship.

He'd known from the moment he'd beamed aboard that something was wrong, and now he knew what it was. This wasn't his ship. He wasn't on his _Enterprise_. He was on some happy-go-lucky, smiley, gooey… happy ship. He wanted to hurl.

Leaving the wall of overt happiness, Kirk wandered back into the living area to see what else he had missed in his determination to get to his computer. The layout was basically the same – couch, tables, chairs, but there was definitely more… stuff than in his cabin. There were more pictures on the wall, toys on the floor, a goddamn playpen by the wall, a brightly colored quilt on the couch. He noticed a vase that had to be from Darlenti – their glass had a distinctive glow to it, and a painting that looked like a scene from Veelox. There were shelves that held more knickknacks that he was afraid he would recognize from other planets.

He did not collect items from the planets he visited… unless it was in living form as a slave or bedmate. He didn't give a damn about their culture and artisans, but someone in this cabin obviously did. He just hoped to hell it wasn't Not Him, because that would just be… disgusting.

The kitchen area had been expanded, including a good size table and an actual cooking area. And that was just weird. Who would cook on a space ship when there were perfectly good replicators available?

Moving down the hallway created by the expanded kitchen Kirk noted two doors. He figured the first one would lead to his bedroom, but the second… His feet moving of their own volition, Kirk went to the second door at the end of the hallway. Opening it slowly, he looked around and it was as he expected; this room belonged to the baby in the pictures on the wall.

There was a crib, chest of drawers, rocking chair and some kind of flat surfaced shelves with things stacked under it. The room was softly lit by the stars painted on the ceiling. Glancing up he recognized the constellations as seen from Earth.

Taking a few more steps into the small room, Kirk looked down into the crib hesitantly. He was no judge of babies, but the infant couldn't be more than a year; maybe not even more than six months. She – it had to be a girl, there was too much pink in the room - was lying on her side, her pink and blue blanket pooled at her feet. Her pajamas were pink with some sort of animal dancing around on them and covered her from her neck down to her feet.

Reaching out he ran a calloused finger over her downy soft check in fascination. He'd never seen a baby this young before – not up close. Her hair felt like feathers and she snuffled in her sleep, clutching at the stuffed selhat that was in the crib with her.

Hmmm…. If Not Him was him, did that make this child his? He still didn't know what the hell had happened, but he was pretty sure he was on the _Enterprise_, just not his _Enterprise_.

Figures that Not Him would produce a weak girl child, he snorted, his fingers still running lightly down the sleeping form. The amount of protection and training this child would need before she could take her place as his heir… it was so much more than if he'd just produced a boy. Boys were easier to take care of; tougher than any girl. Women could be strong, lord knows his mother was a right old barracuda, but girls… they were so much more easily hurt, more easily abused. His daughter though, his daughter would….

Shaking his head, Kirk stepped away from the crib. This was not his _Enterprise_. That was not his daughter. He'd never even thought of having children; having an heir and leaving a legacy, yes, having and raising a child – no. He always figured he'd find an upcoming young officer to groom, like Pike had done with him. Children were too much of an investment and too easily turned against you or taken away, as his mother had learned, much to her chagrin. No, he had never thought of having a child of his own, but now…

A small sound behind him had him turning and reaching for his knife again. There was a partially opened door behind him, something he had uncharacteristically missed when he'd first entered the room. The sound of rustling came again and he moved cautiously toward the door. Looking in he saw the sleeping form lying on the bed and he felt his dick take interest.

Like her child, she too had kicked most of her covers off. Unlike her child, though, she was wearing only a scrap of underwear. Her back was to him, as she lay sprawled across the bed, one leg hitched up and over a pillow that she clutched to herself like a teddy bear. He couldn't see her face, but the mass of curly brown hair marked her as the woman in the pictures; the mother of the child in the crib.

Looking over her sleeping form, Kirk noted a few things instantly. She was short, probably not much over five feet, he guessed, and she was much more curvy than the women he usually took to his bed, though her round, plump ass was making his hands itch to touch it and spank it. He had a sudden desire to see his reddened handprint on the exposed pale flesh.

Her back was smooth and pale, except for a small tattoo at the base of her spine; something green and black and round, with vines or something entwined around it. That was interesting. Without really thinking, he entered the room, wanting to get a closer look at the tattoo. Kneeling beside the bed he inhaled the scent of sleeping woman; warm skin and soap, and the aroma of woman that all women seemed to have but was different for each. She smelled of musk and vanilla.

Reaching out, he traced the air above her tattoo. He didn't recognize the design. It almost looked like a Yin/Yang sign from earth, but it was more swirled and there were green vines wrapped around it. He wanted to lean down and lick it, just to see if she tasted as good as she smelled.

She shifted again, her bottom leg stretching, her back arching lightly. "Jim?" she asked into the darkness.

Kirk swallowed heavily. Did he stay and say something or did he leave?

Rolling towards him slightly, she dropped her shoulder and exposed one of her breasts.

"Yes?" he whispered back hoarsely.

Turning her face towards him, she kept her eyes closed but smiled. "What're you doing back? I thought you were staying until the ceremony tomorrow."

Without a thought, he reached out and cupped her breast, rubbing his thumb over her nipple. "I missed you," he told her.

"Hmmm…" she smiled again, her hand coming up to rest on top of his. "I missed you too, but I'm tired. Abby was pretty fussy without you to put her to bed and I had," she let out a large yawn, "I had to finish up that report… Come to bed," she told him. "I don't like sleeping alone." She patted the empty space in front of her as she rolled away from him, once again sprawling across the bed.

Kirk stood up slowly. This was fascinating, as Spock would say. His senses had been on full alert since he beamed onto this ship, but here he felt… fine. There was no sense of threat, only intrigue regarding the baby and the mostly naked woman currently lying in his bed.

It amazed him that any version of him, Jim Kirk, would willingly shackle himself to a female, let alone spawn a child. This… reality… was seriously twisted.

Smirking slightly, he wanted to see how far he could play this. Everything about this place was so unreal he found that he couldn't take it seriously. Walking around the bed, Kirk stripped down to his shorts and slid his knife under his pillow. The moment he was flat on his back the woman moved, throwing her leg between his, nuzzling under his arm and resting her head on his chest. He froze as she settled herself against him. Once she stopped moving he tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder, the other remaining at his side. She gave a sigh and relaxed almost instantly back into sleep.

Well. Now what, he thought to himself. The woman was definitely asleep, plastered against him - something he hadn't felt in years. He made it a rule to always sleep alone. There was no one he trusted enough to see him at his most vulnerable so he found it very hard to relax while this close to another person.

At one point, shortly after she had settled, the woman seemed to draw in a deep breath, her nose twitching slightly. Something seemed to stir her because she leaned up and blearily stared at him, her nose still twitching as if smelling something unexpected.

"Jim?" she asked in confusion.

"I'm right here," he replied as soothingly as possible. "Go back to sleep."

"Yeah, right. Uh huh," she nodded sleepily, placing her head back on his chest. "You smell funny," she told him with a small yawn.

Hmmm. Maybe he wasn't an exact replica of his other self.

Time passed slowly and Kirk dozed in and out. He enjoyed the feeling of having the woman pressed against him, but he would jerk awake anytime she moved. By morning he was so exhausted that the sound of the baby crying barely registered and was filed as nothing that concerned him.

"Jim!" he was nudged in the ribs. "Wake up! Go get Abby for me, will you? I have to go to the bathroom." With that the warm weight against his side disappeared.

In that instant he remembered his surroundings; he was on the _Enterprise_, but not his _Enterprise_. And the Not Him that resided here apparently had a wife and child. The child's cries became higher pitched and Kirk winced, pulling a pillow over his face.

"Jim!" a voice called from the bathroom.

"I'm going!" he snarled, wondering what kind of pansy-assed captain Not Him could be that he'd take orders from a woman and take care of the baby himself. That's what nannies and slaves were for.

Striding angrily into the room he stared down at the baby in the crib. "Are you done yet?" he asked. In response the baby whimpered and waved its hands up at him. That's when the smell hit and he recoiled a step. "Jesus kid, you stink!"

Hearing the water running in the bathroom, he gingerly leaned down to pick up the infant. She was surprisingly sturdy for her small size, but he had no idea how to hold her. She smelled something awful and he had no desire to bring her any closer to his nose than necessary. With his hands under her armpits and holding her slightly away from his body, he walked back into the bedroom.

The woman laughed. "Jim what are you doing?" she took the baby from him, giving him a curious look. "Is daddy being silly?" she asked the baby.

"She stinks," he pointed out.

"You didn't change her diaper?" the woman looked at him oddly.

"Hell no!" he responded

"Are you feeling okay?" she asked, stepping towards him and reaching for his forehead.

"I'm fine," he told her impatiently, swiping at her hand.

She paused, staring at him, her head cocked as she really looked at him. It was making him nervous, but luckily the baby decided that it was hungry or unhappy or something and began whining again.

"Why don't you go shower," the woman suggested. "You can tell me about the mission at breakfast."

He nodded, beating a strategic retreat. "Sure."

He did shower quickly, then pulled on some of Not Him's clothes. Everything fit right, though he really didn't like the long sleeves. They felt too restrictive. He took some time to look through the closet. Apparently the woman was an ensign of all things. Now that was just wrong on so many levels. He could understand Not Him banging an ensign, but you definitely didn't shack up with one. At least it wasn't a lowly crewmember, but shit… an _ensign_?

Wandering into the bathroom, the woman handed the baby to him again.

"I'm going to shower," she informed him.

He felt a bit awkward holding the infant, but he was more interested in the woman in front of him. She had put on a shirt earlier – a man's shirt – that barely covered her delectable bottom. He realized that for being so short, she had a nice pair of legs. He already knew her tits were a nice handful.

Bending over, the woman seemed to be looking for something in the cabinet, her ass on display. His dick was definitely taking interest again; after all it had been over six days since he'd had crewmember Gonzales at his mercy. His hand still itched to smack her ass and see how well she reddened and then bruised under his touch.

Turning and catching his lecherous look she smirked at him and then pushed him out the door. "Not now, Jim," she told him good-humoredly. "Go watch Abby while I get ready."

Not being used to being put off by a woman, Kirk's eyes narrowed but she didn't even notice as she closed the door on him. Looking down at the baby in his arms and back to the closed door he tried not to imagine all that smooth, creamy skin covered in water.

"Aren't you a little pain in the ass," he told the baby - Abby, he reminded himself. Abby frowned up at him and her lip began to tremble. "None of that," he told her sternly. "I don't want to listen to you bawling again."

Abby didn't take too kindly to his words, grunting and twisting against him.

"Hey, stop that!" he demanded, almost losing his grip. "Fine, if you want down I don't mind at all, you little shit." Striding into the living area he spotted the playpen and plopped her down into it. Lying on her back, Abby stared up at him almost accusingly, her eyes wide and dangerously wet.

"What?" he asked, as if the baby would answer. Grabbing some toys he tossed them into the playpen, then spotting a switch, turned on the mobile that hovered over the baby. That seemed to draw her attention away from him, much to his relief.

Baby occupied, he glanced back over towards the bedroom, a slow smile pulling at his lips. Now it was time to play with mommy.

A part of him knew that he should be a bit more worried about getting back to his ship, but he found it hard to take this place… reality…dimension seriously. Not Him was married and had a child. On a spaceship. He apparently took orders from an ensign. How difficult would Not Him really be to deal with? He liked to think that all Jim Kirks in whatever reality could kick ass and take names, but he had his doubts about this one. Besides, Spock probably already realized what had happened and was in the process of fixing it. Until then, he had time to play.

The shower was still running when he entered the bedroom, but he decided against joining her there. Instead he wandered around the room again, taking in the decorations and wall hangings from worlds he recognized; a couple of which he'd decimated before they'd finally joined the Empire and one he'd outright destroyed.

Spotting a PADD on the woman's side of the bed he turned it on and began perusing the contents. Apparently she was some kind of history buff. He found file after file of cultural and historical data on several planets. Some of it was interesting as he glanced at it. It would have been handy to know that the Kilarians of Degado V associated those of darker skin colors with the gods and pale/white skin with their version of the devil. He could have sent Uhura down to negotiate with them. Too bad. It didn't matter now, they were gone. He really didn't mind being associated with the devil. It worked for him.

Eventually he came across a partially finished letter to 'Nana Rose' that went on and on about the little brat and her accomplishments. Apparently she was at least four months old and the smartest kid in the universe (Kirk wanted to gag) and Jim was the best father ever, sometimes taking the kid to the bridge or his ready room while she worked on her own projects (Kirk did gag at that.) What kind of project was more important than a captain's? These people were strange.

Hearing the water shut off, Kirk put down the PADD and made his way over to the bathroom. He could hear her rustling around. Casually he opened the door and stepped inside. She had a towel wrapped around her head turban style and another wrapped around her body covering a lot more skin than he would have preferred.

She looked at him questioningly. "What's up? Where's Abby?"

Kirk shrugged, staring at her legs. "The kid's occupied."

Glancing behind him, she moved into the bedroom, giving him a strange look. She looked at the bed and then at the closed door. "Did you give her to Spock? Or Uhura?" she asked. Obviously, she thought something was up, but she still trusted him; still believed him to be her Jim.

"Yeah," Kirk smiled, moving into the bedroom after her. "Good ol' Spock stopped by and I asked him to take her. It's been a while and I missed you." He did his best to look sincere and charming. It seemed to work because she relaxed a little and gave a huffing laugh.

"It's been two days," she told him, moving towards the chest of drawers. "And I have to be on duty in an hour. I think you can wait until tonight."

Snagging her by the towel, he brought her into his arms. "But what if I don't want to wait?" he asked, leaning down to kiss her neck, licking a drop of water away.

She sighed against him and tilted her neck. He took it as approval and continued on. God, she smelled good. Before he realized what he was doing, he bit down hard where her neck met her shoulder causing her to jump.

"Ouch! Jim, what are doing?" she exclaimed, clutching a hand to her neck. "That's going to leave a mark."

"I know," he smiled wickedly. He always liked to mark his lovers.

Pulling away from him, she frowned. "Now's really not a good time, Jim," she said, trying to disentangle his arms from around her waist. "I have a conference with Aja and Lieutenant Commander Roose needs help with the secondary database files."

"Oh, you work in the library," Kirk muttered while looking down into the towel that was beginning to droop precariously. Roose was a tough ass officer whom he respected. She'd been through four husbands and three captains. She ran her domain with an iron fist. He couldn't see this little waif of a woman surviving in Roose's domain for very long. Not even Spock liked going to the library.

"Of course I work in the library," the woman pushed against his chest. "Are you sure you're feeling alright? Why did you come back early? What's going…"

He cut her off with a kiss. Kissing wasn't something he generally did with his lovers, but he had a feeling that his counterpart didn't have the same hesitations he did. He almost wanted to crow when she began kissing him back, her body once again relaxing against his and the towel slipping even further.

She tasted good, like mint and toothpaste. It could easily be addictive. For a moment he allowed her to challenge him for dominance as her tongue swept through his mouth, but then his baser instincts took over and the kiss turned darker and more dominating. She tried to pull away as he deepened it, forcing her to submit to him. The towel on her hair got lost in the struggle as he gripped her neck and held her still, wet strands of hair spilling over his arm.

Finally he let her pull away, one lip bleeding slightly where he had bit it.

"What the hell, Jim?" she glared at him, touching her lips and looking in shock at the blood on her finger. "You bit me!"

He just smiled, licking his lips, leaning in for more.

"No!" she declared, dodging away from him. "Stop it!"

"I don't think so," he whispered, grabbing her arms in a tight grip and pulling her closer as he bit and sucked at her neck.

"Ow! Jim, you're hurting me," she cried, trying to pull away, but he only tightened his grip on her biceps. Somewhere in their struggles her towel had fallen away and Kirk looked down at her breasts with a wicked grin.

"No!" she cried again, this time trying to knee him. "Stop! Stop it, Jim! What are you… ahhh!" He let go of one of her arms and smacked her ass hard.

"If you try to hurt me I will hurt you back," he told her, tugging a nipple into his mouth.

She grabbed his hair and tugged; he bit down and she screamed.

"Jim, stop," she whimpered, the tears obvious in her voice. "Why are you…" he spanked her ass again and again, making her dance and press her body into him in order to escape the harsh blows.

"Behave and this won't be nearly as bad as it could be," he grinned, his hands now caressing her warmed cheeks as he once again attacked her neck with his lips and teeth. She continued to struggle and push against him.

"Please, please, Jim," she begged. "Please don't do this, I…"

Smack.

"Jim, please stop…" She pushed against his chest, almost dislodging him.

Smack.

"Behave yourself," he growled against her neck, grabbing her hands and pinning them uncomfortably behind her back as he pushed her against the wall. This new position allowed him to use one of his thighs to trap her legs so she couldn't kick him and conveniently thrust her chest up at him.

He reached out with his free hand and caressed her breasts, pinching each nipple and making her gasp. "All this pale, creamy skin," he told her admiringly, loving the way the tears streaked down her face, "all mine to bite; to mark."

Shaking her head, she whimpered as he gave one nipple a particularly hard twist. "Why are you doing this? What's going on? Jim, this isn't like you."

Kirk laughed without much humor. "I'm not your pansy-assed Jim," he told her.

Before she could protest again the kid started crying, causing them both to look towards the closed door.

"I thought you said she was with Spock," she accused, eyes narrowed threateningly.

"I lied," he shrugged.

Hearing little Abby's cries, she redoubled her efforts to escape, something Kirk didn't mind at all. He always liked a challenge and apparently a mother trying to get to her child was pretty damn challenging. He laughed as she tried to kick him and break his grip on her wrists, but when she head butted him in the nose, she caught him totally off guard.

Pulling back, he slapped her across the face and then tossed her onto the bed.

"There will be none of that, missy," he told her menacingly, wiping a hand under his nose and checking for blood.

She didn't even pause; she was off the bed and clawing at his face in seconds. It was a work of a moment for Kirk to twist her arm painfully behind her back and plant her face down on the bed, ass in the air.

"You will behave!" he told her, his voice mild, but his hand hard as he punctuated each word with a smack to her bottom, "or you will deeply regret it."

"I just… Abby… just let me…" she squirmed under his blows.

"The little rat is fine," he sneered at her, "which is more than I can say for its mother. She's in her little crib out there. Now are you going to cooperate?" he leaned down to whisper in her ear, brushing away the hair that had fallen over her face.

She shook her head and then moaned as he tightened his grip on her arm, pulling it even further so that one move on her part and it would easily dislocate. "I don't like breaking my toys, but I will if I have to."

"I'm not your toy," she panted defiantly.

Kirk couldn't hold back a smile. At least she had spirit.

"We'll see about that," he murmured, placing a chaste kiss on her shoulder while reaching to undo his pants. "We'll see."

He had his pants undone when he heard a commotion out in the living area.

"Marissa!" a voice called, footsteps coming closer.

"Well, hell," Kirk muttered, pulling the woman up and placing her between him and the door, her arm still tightly in his grip.

"Jim!" she moaned back.

The door slid open and they stared at each other for a long moment. Not Him had a phaser aimed at them, but it wavered as he took in the scene before him.

"Now Jim," Kirk smirked, "it's not nice to interrupt another man's fun."

"Fuck you," Not Him said through gritted teeth. "Let her go."

"I don't think so," Kirk mocked. "I like my little toy, she's so much fun. So responsive. Do you like all this pale skin? Do you like to mark it with your teeth and your hands?" he reached down and cupped a breast, weighing it in his hand.

"Fuck you," the woman groaned, once again trying to head butt him in the nose. He dodged it and twisted her arm tighter, making her hiss in pain.

"That only works once sweetheart," he told her, now twisting her nipple and making her moan and Not Him take a step forward. "Not so close… Jim," he taunted. "You wouldn't want the lovely Marissa, - it is Marissa, isn't it sweetheart? – to have her arm dislocated. You know I can do it. You know…."

There was a sudden pinch on his shoulder and then…nothing.

xXx

Jim paced impatiently in front of the observation window, eyeing the man slouched in a chair, the restraints the only thing really holding him up.

"Who the hell is he?" he muttered under his breath, fisting his hands.

"Apparently he is you," Spock answered from behind him

Jim jumped. "Damn it Spock! Don't sneak up on me like that," Jim glared. "What do you mean he's me?"

"Exactly that," Spock replied calmly coming fully into the room to stand next to Jim and look at their captive. "From a DNA level his is an exact match. Yet from bio scans there are several healed fractures and scars that do not match."

"What the hell does that mean?"

Spock cocked his head slightly as he watched the captive begin to stir, not taking Jim's anger personally. "I would postulate that he is in fact Jim Kirk, but he is from another dimension."

Jim just stared at his first officer and then at the captive. "What? You mean like Nero? Like the Ambassador? An alternate me?"

"Precisely," Spock nodded. "The atmosphere of Ourania is very turbulent and suffers from ionic imbalance."

"Which is why Scotty had to recalibrate the transporters," Jim interrupted impatiently. "I was at the briefing, Spock."

"Yes," Spock agreed. "It is possible that if that Jim Kirk," he motioned to the prisoner, "was on Ourania in his time, at the same corresponding time in our timeline that we were there and there was significant ionic interference, his request to beam aboard might have crossed the time/space threshold and that was what brought him aboard our ship instead of his own."

Closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, Jim shook his head. "You're saying there's another reality out there and we just happened to be on the same planet at the same time and because of the weird atmosphere or something he beamed aboard this ship instead of his own?"

"That is what I said," Spock concurred. "Mirkolos has postulated that at any given time there can be dozens of alternate timelines coexisting throughout space and time."

"How the fuck do we get him off this ship?" Jim demanded.

"Mr. Scott and Ensign Chekov are working at that right now, Captain," Spock told him calmly. "I imagine they will have a solution for us soon."

"Or we could just space vac him and be done with it," Jim glared through the window.

"I do not believe that would be a good idea, Captain," Spock replied. "It goes against the prime directive. It would also not be good for crew morale to see their captain execute his own doppelganger."

"Oh, but it's good for crew morale to find out that their captain's doppelganger is a fucking rapist?" Jim snarled.

Watching the prisoner continue to wake, his eyes beginning to flutter as he rose toward consciousness, Spock glanced over at Jim, his face composed, but betraying sympathy if you knew how to look. "I do not believe the crew needs to know about this situation, Jim," he finally said.

Jim harumpfed. "Well that's something I can agree with." He nodded toward the door to the interrogation room. "Let's go talk to the son of a bitch."

"Jim," Spock called out, not having moved from the observation window. "I believe it would be prudent for me to lead this interrogation. After what has happened to Ensign O'Donnell, I believe that…"

"I'm emotionally compromised," Jim interrupted impatiently, "yeah, I get it. But I'm still going to talk to the fucker. I'll let you call the shots, though," he compromised, offering his first officer a wry grin.

Probably figuring that that was the best he was likely to get, Spock followed Jim into the room.

Kirk was blinking blearily as he shook his head trying to wake up. He hissed as he shrugged his shoulders and then arched his neck. "Fucking Vulcans and their fucking death grip," he muttered as he forced his eyes open wide. "Guess I forgot about the door to the little rat's room," he smirked as he looked at the two men standing in front of him.

"I guess you did," Jim replied back coolly.

Kirk cocked his head and looked Jim over appraisingly. It was all Jim could do not to shudder at the cold calculation in those familiar blue eyes.

"So you would be me," Kirk finally said, still smirking, "the weaker me, that is."

Jim shrugged, not rising to the bait. "Depends on your perspective, I guess. I'm not the one handcuffed to a chair."

"True," Kirk replied with a lazy grin. "But I didn't have my pet Vulcan to do all my dirty work."

"Who are you?" Spock interrupted their staring contest. "Where do you come from?"

Kirk seemed to sit a little straighter as he looked over at Spock. "I am James T. Kirk, Captain of the ISS Enterprise," he said proudly, in exactly the way Jim had said the words over and over again in his own reality. "Who the fuck are you?"

Spock's eyebrow rose. "I am Commander Spock of USS Enterprise," he replied.

"USS Enterprise?" Kirk questioned.

"This is the flagship of the United Federation of Planets," Spock said calmly.

Kirk laughed. "United Federation of Planets? I knew you were a bunch of pansies, but… That's just too much. Let me guess, you actually go out and ask planets to become part of your little federation? That's just… hilarious," he continued to chuckle.

"Please explain the designation of your ship," Spock replied calmly.

"My ship," Kirk sneered at them, "is the flagship of the Terran Empire. The most feared ship in the galaxy. If a government knows we're coming they practically roll over and beg to become part of the Empire."

"And if they don't?" Jim asked coolly.

Kirk shrugged. "Then they don't matter and we take what we want." He smiled evilly. "They'll consider themselves lucky if all we do is enslave them, otherwise we leave the planet for the dead."

Spock's eyebrows rose again. "That is most illogical. If a planet and its people are destroyed, how is that beneficial to your empire?"

"It's how things work. Survival of the fittest and all that. I don't care if it's logical or not," Kirk told them, "it's how Earth has become the ruling planet in the galaxy."

The three men continued to stare at each other. Kirk with a mask of amusement, Spock's face calm as usual, and Jim's with barely contained fury.

"How's your little ensign?" Kirk finally said, grinning at Jim. "She's a fine little piece of ass, all that pale, smooth skin. A little too short for my tastes, but I suppose we have to differ somewhere."

"Trust me," Jim said, his voice calm, but his face pinched in anger. "We differ in a lot of ways."

"Oh, I'm sure we do," Kirk replied, his gaze cooling. "I'm guessing the DNA's a match," he asked, looking over at Spock

"Yes, it is," Spock told him.

"Hmmm, that means the little rat really could be mine, at least genetically," he grinned as Jim suddenly tensed. "Too bad you had to spawn a girl, otherwise I might just be interested in…."

Before anyone could blink, Jim was across the room, his hand on Kirk's throat, squeezing as the other man slowly turned red and choked. "You don't talk about my daughter. You don't talk about Marissa, you son of a bitch. You're lucky I don't just space vac you now."

"Jim!" Spock placed a hand on his shoulder and slowly Jim released his grip, the veil of red fading from his eyes.

Kirk choked and laughed in front of him as he tried to draw in a full breath. "So touchy over a couple of worthless females. Your Marissa must be totally worth it in bed to have you so emasculated. Too bad I didn't get more than a couple kisses and some…" he cut off as Jim once again lunged at him. Spock easily held him back.

"Captain, I believe you should leave," Spock said, leading him to the door. "I am sure Ensign O'Donnell is in need of you. I will continue from here."

Jim nodded, his breathing heavy as he turned to exit the room.

"You really are dickless, you know that?" Kirk called after him. "Being led around by the dick by a lowly ensign, and by the nose by your 'logical' first officer. Pathetic."

Jim turned around and looked at Kirk speculatively, the heat gone from his gaze as he just stared until Kirk began to shift minutely, a telling sign that he was becoming uncomfortable.

"How many asses did you have to kiss?" Jim asked him. "How many dicks did you have to suck? How often did you bend over? – to get where you are now? How many of your crew would gladly stick a knife in your back if they had the chance?" Jim shook his head as he stared down at the bound man, a look of disdain on his face. "Yours is a sad, sad existence that will only last for as long as you can keep control and the tighter you squeeze, the more control you lose."

He walked over to the table, placing his hands firmly in front of his doppelganger and leaned forward so their noses were almost touching. "I earned my way to my position. I have the loyalty of my crew. And I have a woman in my life that I would do anything for and a child to carry on my name and my legacy when I'm gone. What do you have?" he questioned softly. "Nothing. So enjoy being the biggest dick in the universe. It will all be gone some day and you'll be dead and no one will remember you and no one will mourn you. You'll be nothing."

Without another look, Jim quietly left the room, his back straight and his head high. Leaving Kirk gaping after him, unable to formulate a response.

Jim spent the rest of the morning with Marissa and Abby. McCoy had managed to heal the cuts and the bruises, but Jim knew only time would heal the emotional scars. Abby was completely unaffected by the events of the morning. She smiled and cooed when she saw Jim walk into Medical and cuddled on his shoulder when he picked her up. It nearly broke his heart when Marissa flinched away from him.

"I didn't know…," she began tearily from the bio bed. She was curled up on her side, the covers pulled up to her shoulders.

Jim handed Abby over to Chapel and then sat down in the chair by the bed, wanting to reach out and touch her, but everything about her – her face, her voice, the stiffness of her shoulders – screamed that he go slowly.

"It's okay, Mariss," he said softly, placing a hand on the bed, but not touching her yet.

"I was sleeping," she told him, "and I thought it was you. You… he… smelled different, but…" she held back a sob. "And then Abby woke up and you didn't change her diaper and…" she closed her eyes and shuddered visibly. "I thought something was off, but… I never thought, never even considered…"

"No one would," Jim told her, running a hand gently down her blanket covered arm. She stiffened but didn't pull away. "No one would expect someone like… him. He was a complete DNA match, Mariss," he told her. "How could you have known that he wasn't me?"

"But I knew," she told him, her tears starting again. "I knew it wasn't right, but I still gave him Abby, I still tr...trusted him with her," she stuttered.

"You couldn't have known," Jim replied firmly. "You're just looking back knowing what you know now. You couldn't have known when it was happening."

"Maybe," she shrugged, "but when he bit me and started… started h..hitting me…I couldn't believe it was you, but who else…?"

Jim closed his eyes briefly while she sobbed into her pillow, his heart pounding heavily in his chest.

"God, I'm so sorry Mariss," he whispered, leaning forward and resting his forehead against the bed. "I'm so sorry. I… I don't know what to do. What can I do?" he pleaded, tears in his eyes. "I… can I… can I hold you? I know what he did, god," he shuddered, "I would never… but I… I just want to hold you right now. Can I?"

She stared at him, tears still leaking from her eyes. Finally she lifted the blanket slightly. "Please?" she whispered.

Slowly, so as not to scare her, he climbed on to the bio bed and gathered her into his arms. She tensed against him for a moment, but then she drew in a long breath before finally relaxing against him as she usually did.

"It will be okay," Jim whispered, kissing her forehead as she began to sob against him. "It's going to be okay. I promise. I promise."

"I know," she hiccoughed in reply. "Just… please don't let go?"

"Never," he whispered, squeezing her tighter. "I'll never let go."

xXx

"Captain, welcome back," his first officer nodded from behind the transporter controls.

"What the fuck took you so long, Spock?" Kirk barked. "I had to trust those pansy-assed ass holes to get me back here."

"I beg your pardon, Captain," Spock replied, arms stiffly clenched behind his back. "We did not realize right away that you had…"

"Shut up," Kirk interrupted, striding purposefully out of the transporter room. "I don't want to hear it. Let me know where we are with the natives."

"Of course, sir," Spock nodded, as he moved to follow Kirk down the corridor.

xXx

Later that night Kirk sat in his office and stared at his computer contemplatively.

"Computer," he finally spoke. "Search for Ensign O'Donnell, Marissa."

"No records found," the computer answered back promptly.

Not really surprising.

"Computer, search for citizen O'Donnell, Marissa, born," he paused, thinking the likely ages range. "stardate 2225 through 2235, location earth."

"Ten matches found," the computer pinged.

Kirk grinned. "Excellent. Display identity pictures and information."

_Please Review_

**I'd like to take this moment to thank **_**royalpinkdogs**_** for being a most astounding and lovely beta reader. I forgot to give thanks for her looking over the second Scotty chapter. Sorry! She's been kind enough to look over my stuff, find my mistakes and offer suggestions (no more rolling of the eyes!). It's been great having her help. I think my writing has actually increased since she made her kind offer. **

**So – a big thank you to **_**royalpinkdogs**_** - and to all of you who take the time to review and tell me what's working and what isn't; and also for the suggestions! It's all greatly appreciated. We're three chapters away from Pike's chapter and it's twice as long thanks to **_**royalpinkdogs'**_** support and encouragement. **** RA**


	8. Chapter 8 Janine

_Author's notes: Okay, so I guess I'm good at understatement. The last chapter was a more than a bit dark. Sorry about that, but I'm glad that the majority of you liked it. As much as I wish everything was sunshine and roses for the Kirk Family, I just can't write all fluff all the time. So, things like the Jim Kirk chapter happen. _

_This next chapter brings some resolution with the help of Janine. As much as Marissa loves and cares for Jim, she was attacked and you just can't get over that quickly. For those of you playing along at home – chapter 7 takes place when Abby is four months. Two months later, in the final chapter of Parenthood: The Sexless Frontier, Jim and Marissa spend a night out on planet with Bones and Janine. Needless to say, things are fine by then. ;-)_

**First Impressions and Quality Time**

**Chapter 8**

Jim glanced down at the chrono on his PADD and sighed. He had another couple of hours at least before he was off shift. They still had another five pallets of supplies to load and two containers of fresh food to get to the galleys. He was hoping things would have gone more smoothly, but as expected with his luck lately that just wasn't going to happen. Rubbing a hand over his eyes Jim shook his head minutely to try to wake himself up.

"Hanging in there, Capt'n?" Scotty questioned as he came to stand beside him watching the workers carefully maneuver a pallet into the docking station connected to the Enterprise.

"Doing fine, Scotty," he told the engineer. "I'm doing fine."

"Pardon me, sir," Scotty looked him up and down, "but you look plum tuckered out."

"Yeah, well," Jim shrugged. "It was a rough night last night."

"Ah, the wee lassie's not sleeping well, is she?" Scotty asked sympathetically. "She catch a bug from those diplomats we carted around last week?"

"Something like that," Jim evaded, not looking at his officer.

"Oi! Watch what you're doin', ye wee fools," Scotty suddenly shouted at the dock workers. "Ye canna just be jamming the thing into the port like tha'…"

Without a backwards glance at his captain, Scotty charged off to protect his lady and her cargo leaving behind a very relieved Jim. In truth, it wasn't Abby who was having trouble sleeping. It was Marissa. It had only been ten days since the mysterious other Jim Kirk had invaded their lives and seriously fucked up their relationship and Marissa was still as jumpy as a cat in a rocking chair factory as Bones had so quaintly put it. Jim couldn't blame her, but it still hurt that she didn't trust him even though it was obvious that she was trying. And her nightmares were getting harder to handle because there was nothing he could do to stop them or even soothe her after she awoke.

He'd taken to playing his guitar to Abby each night and then the next day whenever he met up with Marissa – for lunch, in the library, in their quarters – he made sure to whistle a few notes of the song he had played the night before. It seemed a simple way to reassure her that he was her Jim and not an impostor and it worked, but there was still that split second of tension before she relaxed enough to smile at him in greeting.

They would get through this, he was determined. Abby hadn't been affected at all, which was a relief, but though the bruises had faded, Marissa hadn't recovered yet. And if he had to listen to her whimper 'No Jim. Don't, please,' in her sleep he just might break down and cry – or go find the bastard, alternate universe or not, and kill him like he should have in the first place.

"Jim. Jim! Hey Captain!" a familiar voice finally broke into his thoughts. Turning, he smiled, though he knew it was poor a attempt when Janine's smile faded and she cocked her head at him curiously.

"Janine," he gave her a hug. "What the heck are you doing here?"

"I'm mapping a system nearby and we needed supplies," she told him, standing back and looking him over. "Imagine my surprise when I found out the _Enterprise_ was docked here too."

"Supplies," Jim shrugged, waving at the controlled chaos behind him. "Another hour or two and it'll all be loaded and then we're off to Alpha Rigel."

Janine nodded, but continued to stare at him. "You look like shit," she finally told him.

"Well thanks," Jim tried to look playfully offended. "You sure know how to stroke a guy's ego."

"You don't need your ego stroked," she countered. "What's up?"

"Nothing," Jim told her, though he knew she didn't believe him. "It's just been a rough couple of weeks."

"Abby?" Janine asked sympathetically.

Jim shrugged, not meeting her eyes. He turned to talk to the dock worker who had a question for him.

"Look, I'm going to be a while," Jim said, turning back to Janine. Looking over her shoulder he waved at someone. "Ensign LaPointe, can you please escort Lieutenant So'olialo to my quarters?"

The ensign nodded politely. "Of course, Captain."

"We'll be a couple of hours at least," Jim told Janine. "I think Marissa could use a… distraction."

"Is everything all right, Jim?" Janine asked; her concern obvious in her voice.

Jim opened his mouth to reply but nothing came out.

"Jim?"

He just shook his head. "Go talk to her. I have to…"

Scotty called to him from across the loading dock and Jim waved back. "I've got to go. I'll talk to you later, okay?" Without giving her time to reply, Jim jogged away.

"Well, hell," Janine whispered under her breath watching Jim leave. Something was definitely up.

xXx

By the time Ensign LaPointe had escorted her to Jim and Marissa's quarters, Janine had managed to imagine every possible scenario, from the likely lovers quarrel to some things much, much worse, to account for Jim's strange mood. She'd only spent three days with the man, but she had never seen him so subdued and tired. Sure, parenthood had to be tough, but she didn't think anything could wear down Jim Kirk.

Thanking the ensign politely, Janine waited until he was down the corridor before ringing for entry. Until she had seen Jim she was excited to see Marissa and baby Abby, but now that excitement was overlaid with a sense of worry.

It took a minute for Marissa to answer the door, baby perched on her hip, but when she finally did she looked just as worn out as Jim and maybe even a little… scared?

"Oh my god!" she shrieked as soon as she realized who was standing in front of her. "Janine! What are you doing here?"

"Visiting you, kiddo," Janine told her with a smile, sweeping her friend, baby and all, into a big hug. "And little Abby, too, of course. I can't believe how big she is."

Now Marissa was all smiles and welcome. The only hints that she was worn out were the dark circles under her eyes and the fact that her hair was a bit frizzy and starting to escape from its pony tail.

"Come in, come in," Marissa laughed as she led Janine into the living room to sit on the couch. "Can I get you something to drink? A snack? We don't have much fresh, but I can always replicate something."

"I'm fine, 'Rissa," Janine told her. "Sit down and tell me how you're doing. You look tired."

Marissa's smile faded a bit. "Well a four and a half month old will do that to you," she said lightly, but Janine still felt that something was off.

Sitting down, Marissa turned Abby so that she was propped on her lap facing Janine. Janine couldn't help smiling at the adorable infant. "She really does have Jim's eyes," she commented. "I mean people say that all the time – she has her mommy's nose or her daddy's eyes, but I've never really seen it, you know? But those are definitely Jim Kirk baby blues."

"Yes, they are," Marissa smiled, bouncing Abby gently on her knee. "The only thing she seemed to get from me was my frizzy hair."

"She does have a pretty full head," Janine grinned.

"Believe it or not, she used to have more," Marissa told her. "Do you want to hold her?"

"Of course," Janine said enthusiastically. "Why do you think I'm here? Not that it's not lovely to see you, but I've been dying to see my goddaughter."

Reaching out, she took Abby from Marissa carefully. It had been awhile since she'd held a child. She was surprised by how light she was. "Hello Abby," she said to the little girl, holding her close for a moment. "I'm your Auntie Janine." She laughed when Abby grabbed hold of one of her braids and tugged at it. "Who's a pretty girl?"

She was vaguely aware of Marissa settling back and watching them with a fond smile as Janine cooed and talked baby talk to Abby. She indulged herself for a few minutes, enjoying the warm baby smell and the bright eyes that were focused on her in wonder. She even managed to get a gurgling laugh from the infant that made her laugh in response.

"She's amazing 'Rissa," Janine finally said, looking up at her friend.

"Yes, she is," Marissa agreed. Reaching for a toy on the coffee table, she handed it to Janine to give to Abby. "I can't believe how much she's changing every day."

"She must keep you pretty busy," Janine began. "I bet you don't get a lot of sleep."

Marissa just shrugged. "Some nights are better than others, but we can usually count on from at least ten or eleven o'clock until six in the morning. Any longer than that and my boobs really hurt."

"So you're still breast feeding?" Janine asked in surprise. In this day and age most women she knew tended to breast feed for the first six or eight weeks, if they breast fed at all, and then switched to formula. Science had come a long way in replicating food for newborns.

"I know it's not conventional," Marissa shrugged, "but I want to. I like the closeness. She's only just started going into the daycare facility for most of the day. Until about a month ago Jim and I were the only ones who took care of her."

"Jim helped?" Janine asked, trying not to look too shocked.

"Of course he did," Marissa scolded lightly. "I told you that. His help was a bit limited at first because she was so dependent on me, but he did what he could; changing her diapers, taking her between feedings, walking with her when she didn't want to sleep. Jim's been great."

"Well, that's good," Janine smiled down at Abby. "I'm sure daddy absolutely dotes on his little girl."

"He does. And she already has him – and several others – wrapped around her little finger."

"I'm sure she does," Janine agreed. "Len?"

"Since day one," Marissa smiled.

For a moment Janine looked down at Abby and then really looked up at her friend, once again taking in the tired eyes and the worn out look. "How are you and Jim?"

This seemed to startle Marissa somewhat. She stood and began putting away loose toys, folding a blanket and generally trying to look busy. "Jim? And me? We're fine. A bit tired, but fine. No problems."

"Really?" Janine asked suspiciously.

"Really," Marissa replied.

Janine wanted to press further, but Abby decided to become fussy. She had been a bit fidgety for awhile, but now she began to whimper.

"I'll go change her," Marissa swooped in. "It's almost time for her evening snack and bedtime," she explained over her shoulder as she walked down the small hall to the baby's room.

Not wanting to sit, Janine stood up and looked around. She'd heard all about the remodeling, but now she wanted to see it for herself. It wasn't often a guy would rearrange a spaceship to make room for his girlfriend. And even though she knew it only involved removing a couple of walls, she was still impressed with the gesture. Meandering back to Abby's room, she stood in the doorway and looked around.

"Who painted the ceiling?" she asked, looking up at the constellations.

Marissa visibly jumped at the sound of her voice and when she glanced back, Janine was surprised to see how pale and wary she looked.

"I didn't mean to startle you," Janine apologized, walking over to her friend and placing a hand on her shoulder.

"It's okay," Marissa tried to laugh it off causally, but it fell flat. "I… I haven't been sleeping well, what with Abby and a project I'm working on and… I guess I'm more tired than I thought."

"Why don't I go make us some tea," Janine offered. "Is Abby hungry now?"

"Not yet," Marissa shook her head. "We try to put her down at the same time everyday – to give her a schedule, so she's got another twenty minutes or so. Some tea would be lovely, if you don't mind."

"Not a problem," Janine patted Marissa's arm. "I'll be in the kitchen."

"I'll just be a few more minutes," Marissa replied. "I've got to get her into her pajamas."

Getting the tea prepped was easy and didn't take Janine more than a minute. She couldn't help wondering what was going on with Marissa. It wasn't like her friend to be jumpy and evasive. She looked tired, but it was definitely more than that.

The sound of whistling brought her to the kitchen doorway. Jim had apparently escaped the loading area.

"She's changing Abby," Janine told him.

Stopping the whistling, Jim nodded and walked over to join her in the kitchen area. "Good, I didn't miss bedtime," he said. "We're about an hour out from leaving," he informed her. "I hope you had a nice visit." 

"It was great," Janine told him honestly. "I got to hold and play with Abby. She's beautiful."

"I have to agree with that," Jim smiled an honest to goodness Jim Kirk smile.

"But Marissa seems a bit... off," she continued.

Jim's smile faded immediately and he gave a small sigh. "I know. I…"

A strangled gasp from the kitchen doorway startled them both from their conversation. Janine looked up and was totally shocked to see the terrified look on Marissa's face and how tightly she was holding Abby as she stared at Jim looking ready to run.

Jim did nothing, just calmly began to whistle, walking slowly forward to take Abby from Marissa. "I didn't want to miss bedtime," he said calmly, talking Abby but not touching Marissa in any way. "Abby and I have some more Beatles songs to sing tonight, don't we Abby? Last night it was "Eleanor Rigby," tonight I think we'll start with "Across the Universe," or maybe "Strawberry Fields," since we just got a bunch of fresh strawberries in." He looked over at Marissa and smiled, though it looked pained. "Do you want me to play while you feed her, or do you want to feed her first?"

Marissa seemed to snap out of whatever had frozen her. "I…" she looked anxiously between Jim and Janine. "I'll feed her first," she finally said somewhat stiffly. "We don't want to leave Janine alone."

Kissing Abby on the forehead, Jim handed her back, again with as minimal contact with Marissa as possible. "I'll see you soon baby girl," he whispered.

Marissa didn't say anything more; she just turned and left the kitchen.

Neither Jim nor Janine spoke until they heard the door to Abby's room close.

"What the hell is going on, Jim," Janine hissed, her eyes narrowed threateningly as she glared at him from across the kitchen. "What did you do to her?"

"I didn't do anything," Jim protested, but his shoulders were slumped and he looked defeated.

"Somehow I doubt that," Janine snorted, crossing her arms and staring at him. "She's my best friend and captain or no, I will kick your ass if you did anything to hurt her – physically or emotionally."

That seemed to get his attention. He glared back at her for a moment, his eyes hot with ire. "I would never hurt Marissa. Never!"

"Then what the hell is wrong?" Janine demanded. "She looks exhausted. And she looked terrified when she saw you standing there. And what's with the whistling? And why didn't you… I don't know? Touch her or hug her or… pat her damn hand? You two were always touchy-feely when I saw you together and now… it's just…"

"Wrong," Jim said sadly. As if all his muscles were sore he sat down heavily in one of the kitchen chairs. "Sit," he told her, waving at the chair opposite him. He sat forward, his elbows on the table and sighed again, but didn't speak.

"What the hell is going on, Jim," Janine repeated, though some of her righteous anger had faded at seeing how worn down the man looked. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything," Jim bit out tiredly. "But I might as well have," he added in a softer voice, not looking up at Janine but studying his hands carefully.

"What does that mean?" Janine asked in frustration.

"Ten days ago we were visiting the planet Ourania," Jim began slowly. "It was just your typical meet and greet, wave the flag type thing. They wanted to meet the crew that saved Earth and all that. Have you ever been there?" he asked, finally looking up at her.

She shook her head.

"We had to recalibrate the transporters," he continued. "They have some wicked ionic storms and… well, it's easier to recalibrate than send a shuttle. They're all about being one with the planet and the locals don't like the fuel we use, so…" he shrugged.

"Did something happen on Ourania?" Janine questioned carefully, finally uncrossing her arms and looking at Jim sympathetically. She could tell this was hurting him deeply.

Jim shook his head immediately. "No, nothing happened on planet. It was pretty boring, actually. Spock and I stayed over for a ceremony that had to be performed at dawn and then we came back to the ship, only… I was already back on the ship."

Janine stared at him, waiting for him to explain further. "What do you mean you were already on the ship?"

"Just that," Jim told her. "At just past ship's midnight they received a garbled call from me to beam up – from the day side of the planet. And they beamed me aboard."

"But it couldn't have been you…" Janine trailed off in confusion.

"Right, it wasn't me," Jim agreed sadly. "See, there's this theory about alternate timelines or mirror universes and the possibility that if it was the right time and place in both places the timelines just might converge."

"Huh?" Janine just looked at him with a dumbfounded expression.

Jim laughed without any trace of humor. "I used to think it was all theoretic until Nero and then Ambassador Selek and now… me." He shook his head. "Something in the atmosphere of Ourania touched off something and we happened to be there and they happened to be there and…" he shrugged.

"A Jim Kirk was beamed aboard the _Enterprise_ that wasn't you," Janine finished for him in wonder. "Are you fucking kidding me?" she exclaimed after a moment. "That's just… insane."

"Not according to Spock," Jim countered heavily. "Odds are pretty damn small, but hey, it's me. What the hell do odds matter?"

Janine just stared at him, taking in his defeated expression and dejected posture. This was not the Jim Kirk she remembered from Starbase 17. "So what did he do?"

Jim took a deep breath. "He came back to our quarters, got into bed with Marissa…"

"Oh my god," Janine gasped, a hand covering her mouth as she felt tears building up in her eyes.

"No, he didn't…" Jim shook his head, unable to get the word out. "He just slept, but in the morning… after Marissa had showered and Abby was in her playpen, he… he attacked her. He hit her and bit her and…he planned on… he was going to," Jim shuddered, "…but he didn't. Spock and I got there in time. We had just beamed back and the ensign who had beamed him up… he was shocked to see me and we checked the records and… We stopped him, but he still hurt her. And he had my face," Jim said bitterly. "He had my fucking face and…"

"Marissa hasn't been able to forget," Janine finished sadly for him. Reaching out, she covered one of his hands with her own and squeezed gently. "It's hasn't been that long. She just needs time," she tried to reassure him.

"I know. That's what Bones keeps telling me," Jim said, sitting back and wiping at his eyes that were suspiciously red. "But it fucking hurts to see her flinch every time she sees me."

"I can imagine," Janine sympathized. "But I'm sure she doesn't mean to; she doesn't want to hurt you like this."

"I know that. I do," Jim sighed. "It's all fucked up. Once we're together. Once she's sure it's me, it's not so bad. She has nightmares and that's pretty fucking horrific to hear her begging him – begging me! – to not hurt her. But when we're just us, me and Marissa and Abby, it's not so bad. Just as long as I don't leave her sight."

"Oh Jim," Janine let out a huge sigh as she tried to understand what they were going through. "What's with the whistling?'

"It's something he wouldn't know," Jim finally admitted. "I couldn't stand the flinching and the way she would watch me until she was sure it was me, so I… I came up with the whistling," he shrugged. "I can do it without anyone thinking it's too weird and it's better than having some kind of password and response, and a lot less obvious. I play and sing every night when Marissa's feeding Abby, then the next day I whistle one of the songs whenever I see Marissa."

"That's pretty clever," Janine admitted.

"It works," Jim shrugged.

"Does she even know what you're doing?"

"We haven't really talked about it, but I think she knows…" Jim trailed off.

"She knows," Marissa said softly from the doorway. "And she really appreciates it." Stepping forward she put a hand on Jim's shoulder. He didn't move his body, but he did manage to tilt his head and rest his cheek against it for a second.

"Shall I go play for Abby?" he asked, looking up at her.

A small squawk from the bedroom made everyone smile a little. "I think she's getting impatient, actually," Marissa told him.

Nodding Jim stood up, still being careful not to touch Marissa. Waving to Janine, he went to leave, but Marissa's hand on his arm stopped him. He looked at her expectantly, but it was obvious how hopeful he was from the look in his eyes.

"Jim, I…" Marissa began, but then stepped forward. Standing on her toes, she placed a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you for… everything."

Taking her hand and squeezing it, he brought it to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "Of course." He looked at her for a long moment and then back at Janine. "See you later, Janine. Take care."

"You too, Jim," Janine managed to say through the lump in her throat.

"I'll get Abby to sleep, but then I have to get back to the bridge," he told Marissa. "We've got maybe another half hour to forty-five minutes until we're ready to head out, then we're travelling for the next eighteen hours."

"I'll wait up," Marissa told him softly.

"You're sure?"

"Yes, I'll wait," she assured him. "I'm not on shift tomorrow and we need to talk."

Abby let out an indignant cry and Jim and Marissa smiled, still staring at each other. "I'll be back as soon as I can." He only hesitated briefly before he leaned forward to press a quick kiss to her lips.

Janine did her best to hold herself together as she watched her friend watch Jim walk back towards Abby's room. Marissa went to finish the tea that she had left on the counter after her confrontation with Jim. Letting her friend have time to pull herself together, Janine waited for Marissa to make the first move.

Still, after setting down a mug of tea with sugar and milk already added, Marissa still hadn't said anything.

"Everything's fine, my ass," Janine finally said to her friend.

"Jim would say your ass is fine," Marissa tried to joke, still not meeting Janine's eyes.

"Marissa," Janine said in exasperation. "This is not a time to joke around."

"I know," Marissa said with a sigh. "I just… I don't know what to say."

"How about telling me how you really are?" Janine asked, reaching across the table and grabbed Marissa's hand which was nervously playing with her spoon.

"I'm…" Marissa began, but then hesitated when Janine gave her a warning look. "I'm dealing with it," she shrugged.

"It doesn't look like it to me," Janine said bluntly. "You and Jim look exhausted and I know it's not just Abby."

"I've been having nightmares," Marissa said slowly.

"That's not surprising," Janine commented. A part of her really wanted to ask what exactly had happened, but she knew that she shouldn't. Marissa had been through enough, she didn't need to relive for her friend.

"And… sometimes when I see Jim I can't help but think of…him," she managed to force out. "I know it's not. I know that it's my Jim, but I… I flashback to that morning and what he did and…"

Silent tears were rolling down Marissa's face and Janine couldn't hold back hers any longer. Her vision blurred as she held her friend's hand and waited for her to speak again. They listened to Jim finish his song and close Abby's door. Marissa tensed as he walked by the kitchen, but he didn't stop only slowed down to wave good bye to Janine. She tried to smile at him, but she was afraid it didn't really work.

When the door to their quarters closed, Marissa's head sagged down to rest on the table.

"He's been so… understanding," she whispered. "He hasn't pushed and he's always waiting for me to calm down. And I know that this is hurting him, but I can't seem to stop. He… the other… he looked exactly like him. Len said he was an exact DNA match, but… I should have known, Janine," she looked up with red rimmed eyes. "I should have known!"

"How could you have known, kiddo?" Janine questioned softly. "He came in the middle of the night, he was a DNA match. You couldn't have known."

Marissa shook her head. "I should have. I knew something was off. He… he smelled different. I noticed that right away. And he didn't change Abby and he was holding her weird, like he didn't really know what to do. And he was staring at me in a way," she actually started to blush, "it was like Jim when he wants to have sex, but… darker; creepier. But I just filed it all away. I didn't let myself think about it and I… I handed over Abby without a second thought." She let out a small sob and covered her face.

"Stop it," Janine told her, reaching out to pull her hands away. "You didn't know. You couldn't have known, kiddo. So he seemed a bit off; everyone has bad days – even Jim, but the idea that someone from an alternate reality would show up in your quarters? Honey, if that had even crossed your mind I'd think you were crazy. No one expected this. And you could not have known, so stop trying to blame yourself."

Marissa gave her a pained look and Janine sat back in shock. "That's what this is about, isn't it?" she asked slowly. "You are blaming yourself. You think you could have stopped him; should have stopped him."

The helpless look in her friend's eyes gave Janine her answer. "Marissa don't be an idiot."

"I put Abby at risk," Marissa whispered.

"You gave Abby to someone who was an exact replica of he father," Janine countered.

"I let him… I let him kiss me and… and touch me."

"Again, he looked like Jim," Janine told her matter-of-factly. "The way you two look at each other, I imagine responding to his touch and his kisses is Pavlovian by now. But do you know what?"

Marissa shook her head.

"I bet you fought like hell when he started to hurt you."

Almost subconsciously, Marissa's hand went to her mouth and she traced her lower lip. "He bit me," she confessed.

"And what did you do?" Janine prodded.

"I told him to stop," Marissa replied, her eyes unfocused as she thought back. "And I tried to pull away, but he… he tried to kiss me again. Then he went for my neck and bit me and I… I…"

"You what?"

"I tried to knee him in the balls."

"You fought back," Janine nodded proudly.

In a daze, Marissa nodded. "And when I heard Abby…I head butted him in the nose and he… he slapped me and threw me on the bed, but I had to get to Abby. I tried to go for his eyes, but he…"

Janine could see the anxiety building up as Marissa gripped her hands tighter and tighter. "He was stronger than you, but you fought back. You weren't going to let him hurt you or Abby. You fought back, kiddo. Whether you knew it wasn't Jim or not, you weren't going to let someone hurt you or your child."

"He pinned me to the bed and hit me some more," Marissa continued quietly. "He had my arm up behind my back and he was undoing his pants. He was going to…"

"But he didn't," Janine interrupted fiercely. "Jim and Spock came in time. He didn't do anything else to you."

"But he was going to," Marissa countered in a daze. "If Jim hadn't shown up, he was going to rape me and there was nothing I could have done about it."

"He didn't," Janine told her again. "You fought him; you held him off long enough for help to arrive. You're strong, kiddo. You're not about to let anyone, not even Jim, hurt you like that. Not without a fight."

"But it wasn't Jim," Marissa told her, her eyes suddenly alive with defiance. "Jim would never hurt me. And he would never let anything happen to Abby."

Janine gave her a wobbly smile as her tears began to fall again. "Exactly, kiddo. Exactly."

_Please review – it would make a great birthday present! (Yes, that was totally shameless.)_

_Just as a warning… there are still fluffy chapters to come, Spock is next, but there is also a developing plot among all the final FI&QT chapters that will lead into a larger story with angst and drama and romance and angst. Did I mention the angst? And a real plot. Can't forget that! Still, I would estimate at least another half a dozen chapters before the start of the new story._


	9. Chapter 9 Spock

_Author's notes: Because I work retail and it's busy as all get out I haven't had time to write the make up scene that was suggested to me by Royalpinkdogs, by wonderful beta reader and cheerleader. That being the case, she did it for me! It's awesome and I love it, so please check it out. She'll be posting under her nom de plume on ._

_As a secondary note – I am not exactly pleased with Spock in this fic. He's a bit more wooden than I would like, but again… retail, time, etc._

_Happy Holidays to everyone! – RA_

**First Impressions and Quality Time**

**Chapter Nine - Spock**

Spock watched Nyota play with Abigail from the kitchen area of his quarters. The child had been with them since the evening before and despite some initial fussiness going to bed last night, everything had gone smoothly. On one hand that was surprising, seeing as not many things went to plan when a Kirk was involved, but Spock was hopeful that Abigail took after her mother more than her father, despite her bright blue eyes.

Since Nyota had first watched Abigail in their quarters several months ago, Spock had pondered the process of parenthood. It really wasn't a concept that had been part of his consciousness. He had always been focused on his studies and of course Vulcans in general did not procreate until well past his current age. They were a long lived species and had time to wait unlike humans.

Jim as a father was rather surprising; as was Jim as a captain, actually. For all the rumors and wildness that were associated with him, he was a very thorough and diligent leader. Spock had no trouble following him and had almost as much trust in him as he had in Pike. Rather shocking in and of itself considering he knew Pike for years before he had signed on as his first officer.

"Spock, are you sure you are going to be okay without me here?" Nyota questioned for the third time. "I can call Janice if you want. Kirk said they'd be back after lunch, but that is a pretty big window for him. I doubt they'll be home before her nap."

"I will be fine, Nyota," Spock repeated calmly. "I have observed you and Miss Abigail thoroughly. I feel that I am adequately prepared to handle her on my own. You do not need to worry about her."

"I'm not worried for her," she smiled, standing up with Abby perched on her hip. "I'm worried for you."

"Excuse me?" Spock asked, cocking his head curiously.

"Babies aren't exactly logical," Nyota pointed out.

"I am aware of this."

"And if she gets fussy like she did last night…"

"I will handle it," Spock assured her. Reaching out for Abby, he took her into his arms. She immediately grabbed for his ears. Patiently he took her small hands and redirected them. "I believe she will be hungry soon and then she will require a nap, correct?"

"Yes," Nyota nodded, going over to the diaper bag and grabbing a bottle and a new diaper. "Don't forget to change her."

"Of course," Spock agreed. Abby had moved her focus to his nose and mouth; calmly he intercepted her hands again. Going to the table, he grabbed a large spoon that she had been playing with earlier and handed it to her. She stuck it in her mouth for a moment and then attempted to put it into his, though it mostly meant she tried to hit him in the face with a wet spoon. "No thank you, Miss Abigail," he told her, dodging the spoon. "I am not hungry at the moment."

Nyota laughed lightly, then came up and kissed his cheek. "I guess you'll be okay," she told him before giving Abby a quick kiss that made her squeal. "I'll be in communications if you need me."

"We will be fine," Spock told her again.

With a quick wave Nyota left, leaving Spock and Abby staring at the door. Abby made a distressed sound and then looked up at Spock, her lower lip pouting and her eyes beginning to shimmer.

"Nyota must go to work," Spock told the infant. "I will entertain you." Abby stared at him as if she didn't quite believe him – a look he had sometimes seen on her father's face. "Shall we play with your blocks?"

Not waiting for an answer, Spock moved to sit on the floor cross-legged. He propped Abby up with pillows across from him. Between them he began to build a tower with the stuffed blocks that had come in the diaper bag. Abby watched for a while, still chewing on the spoon he had given her. When he had constructed a tower that was equal to her in height she reached out with the spoon and knocked it over. The corresponding squeaks and rattles from the falling blocks made her giggle and she beat a blue block repeatedly with her spoon.

"Blocks are to be used to build, not as drums," Spock told her, once again building a tower. Abby didn't even let him stack three blocks before she went after it again with the spoon. "Do you wish to do something else?"

Abby looked at him, smiled and then reached down and grabbed her sock. She pulled it half off before he could stop her. He tried rolling a ball to her next, but she didn't show any interest. Instead of trying to direct her play, he decided to watch and observe her. She was slowly slouching forward as she reached for the blocks in front of her, not strong enough yet to keep herself up. Eventually she ended up on her belly, but quickly rolled over and grabbed her socks, this time succeeding in pulling off one sock, which she waved around, not coordinated enough to throw it or drop it.

Gently taking the sock, Spock offered her a rattle which she banged enthusiastically on the floor, her belly and her head.

"That could not have felt good," Spock said, blocking the rattle from slamming into her head again. "You should not hit yourself."

Paying him no mind, Abby rolled over and tucked her knees under her belly, rocking her body backwards and forwards.

"Are you going to crawl?" Spock asked. "I do not think that your parents would wish you to do something so momentous when they are not present." He watched her curiously, not moving to help or to stop as she continued to rock and grunt on her hands and knees. "I am not familiar with the growth of human babies, but I believe it will not be long before you are mobile." If he had allowed himself to, Spock would have smiled. He could only imagine the amount of havoc a mobile infant could wreak on Jim and Marissa's life. It would be interesting to observe, most fascinating, actually.

Eventually Abby became disenchanted with her toys and nothing Spock offered her could make her happy. He glanced at the chrono. "Are you hungry now? I believe it is past the time Nyota scheduled for your lunch."

Standing, he took Abby into the kitchen. "First we must change your diaper," he told her. "I believe that you are wet." Laying Abby down on the table Nyota had set up to be a changing area, Spock began to pull off Abby's leggings. Abby was having none of it. She began to twist and turn, trying to turn onto her stomach.

"Miss Abigail," Spock reprimanded, grabbing for her legs. "You must remain still." His words had no affect and she continued to squirm as he removed her leggings and went to undo her diaper. He had left the packet of cleaning wipes within easy reach on the table and Abby managed to grab them and as with everything else, they went directly into her mouth. "No," he told her. "That is not for eating." He took them from her. "If you are hungry you must hold still and not wiggle. You may have your bottle when I am finished."

That was enough for Abby. Her lip began to tremble and before Spock knew what was happening she began to cry. He tried waving her spoon in front of her, offering her another toy and finally the package of wipes, but nothing worked. In the end he gave up and finished changing her. Picking her up, he patted her back as he searched for the bottle Nyota had left out.

The bottle had been knocked over and covered by the spare blanket. Abby's cries had turned into high keening wails, by the time he twisted the heating apparatus.

"There is no need for this, Miss Abigail," Spock told her calmly, though in truth his sensitive ears were beginning to hurt. She seemed to prefer to scream right into his ear. "Crying will not make your bottle heat up any faster and is in fact hindering my efforts to feed you."

Once the sensor on the bottle showed that it had reached the proper temperature, Spock repositioned Abby so that she was cradled in his arm and offered her the bottle. She immediately latched onto it and began eating. Spock allowed himself a small sigh as the room became quiet again.

"That is much better," he told her, moving to sit on the couch.

She quickly sucked down the bottle as she had last night. Spock burped her as he had seen Nyota and Jim do many times. "Are you content now?" he asked, feeling her body relax bonelessly against his shoulder.

Moving towards the sleeping area, Spock went to the crib that Jim had set up for them and gently lowered Abby in, placing her on her stomach as he had been told. He covered her with a blanket and put her stuffed sehlat next to her. He barely made it two steps before her head popped up and the tears began again.

Turning back, he leaned over and patted her back. "Go to sleep Miss Abigail. It is obvious that you are tired." Pushing against his hand, she managed to roll herself over. Staring up at him, she waved her arms and continued to cry.

Hesitating, Spock was unsure if he should pick her up or leave the room. Nyota had held her when she had been crying the previous night, but he knew that Jim and Marissa occasionally let her 'cry it out' and fall asleep on her own. Giving in, he reached down and picked her up again. She quieted right away, with him patting her back and swaying side to side as he had seen others do. It seemed to soothe her and after five minutes he tried to set her down, but the cries started again.

"Miss Abigail, you must go to sleep now," he told her, once again picking her up. The process was repeated three more times before he gave up and moved into the living area. Stretching out on the couch, he held Abby against his chest, tucking her blanket around her he began to hum an old Vulcan nursery song that he didn't even know that he remembered. This seemed to calm her and he continued until she was fully asleep.

Glancing once again at the chrono he was surprised to see that it had taken him forty minutes to get her to go to sleep. He had lost track of time, something he rarely did.

The weight of her sleeping body was comforting and he prepared himself to remain in this position until she awoke again. He didn't allow himself to fully meditate, but he did let his mind drift.

He had enjoyed watching Nyota take care of Abby yesterday and today. She was a naturally caring and compassionate woman and it showed as she interacted with the infant. She never lost her patience or her composure no matter what Abby did. Of course, they only had to watch the child for eighteen hours, but he doubted that she would have any difficulty managing an infant long term.

He was just as surprised as everyone else when Jim and Marissa had announced that they would be caring for Abby themselves, at least for the first couple of months. Jim had discussed their decision with Spock shortly before Abby had been born. He had promised that it would not interfere with his captaincy and that Abby would not be present on the bridge and only in his ready room when he was officially off duty.

Spock had supported their decision because he knew how much it meant to Jim to raise his child. Everyone knew that the captain had not had the most consistent childhood, and his desire to provide a stable environment for his child was commendable.

That the two men had such differing childhoods was fascinating to Spock. Spock had never realized how privileged he had been to have a mother who took care of him and saw to his needs and a father who guided him and watched over his schooling and lauded his achievements. He knew that he was loved, though his Vulcan father did not express his feelings as his human mother had on a daily basis. He had never lacked supervision and never been without a caretaker.

Jim had never had that and yet despite the inconsistencies, or perhaps because of them, Jim had become the youngest starship captain in Federation history. And he was a good one, too. Spock was self aware enough to realize that Jim was a born leader, and that while he was intelligent, he, himself, was more suited to the job of First Officer rather than captain. He could see to the day to day aspects of running a ship, but he didn't have the natural skills that Jim brought to the job – his understanding of the crew and the species that they encountered; his innate openness to new ideas and concepts; his willingness to trust his 'gut feelings' and make snap decisions.

Spock's calm logical personality was the perfect balance to Jim's passionate approach to life. And apparently Jim approached fatherhood as passionately as he did captaining. Spock had to admit that he was impressed at how easily Jim seemed to accept the responsibility of fatherhood for such a relatively young human.

Whenever he had seen Jim with Abigail he was calm and in control, whether she was calm or upset. He didn't shirk his duty to her because she was difficult and he did his best to make sure that Marissa had time to complete her own duties. In all honesty, Spock could say that becoming a father had in no way impeded Jim's performance – on the ship or off. He and Marissa had made sacrifices and compromises, but so far nothing had interfered with the running of the _Enterprise_.

The sound of his door chiming brought Spock out of his thoughts.

"Enter," he said, glancing down to make sure he hadn't disturbed Abby. He watched his captain step hesitantly into the room. He could tell that Jim was apprehensive of his welcome.

"Jim, when you said you would be back after lunch, I assumed you would be here before Miss Abigail's nap." Spock intoned disapprovingly. He imagined that some of the affect was lost due to the fact that he was covered in a pink blanket if Jim's amused look was anything to go by. "She did not enjoy taking another bottle and was most stubborn in not wanting to rest."

Jim had the grace to look guilty at causing his daughter distress.

"Sorry Spock, something… came up," he smirked before assuming a more serious expression, "and we ended up staying a bit longer than planned. You know what they say about assuming, right?"

Spock raised a condescending eyebrow. He was perfectly aware of what Jim was implying; he just wasn't going to give the man the satisfaction of responding to his innuendo or his childish joke.

"Never mind," Jim shook his head. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience. I promise next time we'll be back on time. I can take her now."

"I do not think so," Spock informed him. After all he had gone through he wasn't going to let Abby be disturbed. Besides, he enjoyed seeing the dumbfounded look on his captain's face.

"Excuse me?" Jim asked incredulously.

"It took much effort on my part for Miss Abigail to fall asleep. She needs her rest. I will not disturb her now," Spock informed him haughtily. "I will bring her to you when she awakes."

"Okay," Jim drawled as he backed out of the room slowly, looking as if he thought Spock was going to explode, "if you're sure."

Spock raised one eyebrow; something he knew often annoyed his captain, and starred until Jim left the room.

"That should teach him not to be late," he said softly to Abby, "though I fear he will just use the time to rest after such a late night. He did not look like he got much sleep last night."

Relaxing into the couch, Spock settled in once again, willing to wait however long it took for Abby to wake up. He just might take her to Jim as soon as she woke, but then again, he might not. He enjoyed watching her.

_Please review._

_If things go to plan the next chapter is Pike._


	10. Chapter 10 Pike

**First Impressions and Quality Time**

**Chapter 10 Pike**

Marissa rotated her head then stretched her neck and back, sighing as something gave a satisfactory crack, before settling back to her work. She'd been given her own office space in the library a few months ago and she was enjoying her newfound privacy. She still shared the office in the captain's quarters with Jim, but she found that she liked to be able to delineate between 'work time' and 'home time.' So far it had worked well. There was even a small alcove where she kept an extra crib for Abby.

Nine months old now, Abby spent at least half of her days in the daycare depending on Jim's and Marissa's schedules and work load. Currently Marissa was working on a report that wasn't due for a few weeks and a prospective outline for a suggested contact mission, so she'd been keeping Abby with her most days. Lieutenant Commander Roose and the other researchers didn't mind the occasional distraction a mobile nine month old could provide.

A firm knock on her open door startled her from her work - actually seeing who it was caused her eyes to boggle.

"Admiral Pike, Sir," she glanced surreptitiously behind her to make sure that Abby was still sleeping and hopefully out of sight before standing and saluting. "You're early."

Pike raised a questioning eyebrow at her inane comment as he waved off her salute. "I've been told that an admiral is never late and never early, but always right on time. Or at least that's what Admiral Barrett told me and he's been doing this longer than I," he told her with an amused quirk to his lips.

"I'm sorry, sir," Marissa blushed. "It's just that Jim… the captain," she fumbled, her cheeks heating, "was expecting you tomorrow and he's on planet at the moment. I'm sure he would have been here if he'd known…"

Pike was trying to contain his smile at her obvious discomfort, so Marissa stopped talking.

"I hitched a ride," he told her, "admiral's privilege and all that."

"Of course, sir," Marissa nodded stiffly. "Would you, uh, like to have a seat?" she gestured to the chair in front of her desk while hoping desperately that he wouldn't take her up on her offer.

"Don't mind if I do," he smiled, walking forward with barely a limp and settling himself into the chair, resting his cane against the front of her desk. "Thank you, Lieutenant."

"You're welcome, sir," Marissa responded politely, settling herself back into her chair before she froze halfway, "wait," she looked at him in consternation. "Lieutenant?"

Pike smiled, watching her closely. "Yes, _Lieutenant_," he stressed. "You don't think the library of a starship is the first place I visit when I come on board, do you?" he asked with humorous glint in eyes.

"Well, sir, I've never really thought about it," Marissa told him honestly, trying to absorb her new rank.

Reaching into his breast pocket, he pulled out an envelope and a small box. Pushing them across the desk, he nodded for her to take them.

Hesitantly, Marissa pulled them toward her. Glancing up at him she slowly opened the box. It contained a shiny new lieutenant's emblem to be worn on her dress uniform.

"As of tomorrow the quartermaster will supply you with the proper uniform," Pike told her. "Congratulations, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, sir," Marissa said quietly, and if her voice trembled slightly she was sure that he'd understand. She lightly stroked the silver bars. "It's an honor, but… I didn't… I didn't do any of the tests… the qualifications…" she looked at him in confusion.

"True," Pike nodded, sitting back in the chair, "and you will have to eventually, but this is based on merit and need; and something that should have happened sooner. You've been on the _Enterprise_ for eighteen months. You more than deserve this promotion."

Marissa shrugged, still staring at her new lieutenant insignia. "Spock – Commander Spock," she corrected herself, "has mentioned it before, but I've never really been interested in ranks and such. I'm just happy to be on the ship doing what I do."

"Still," Pike told her sternly, "Starfleet can't have an ensign receiving the Cochrane Xenocultural Medal of Honor for Contributions to the Federation Mission Statement."

Marissa looked up at him in shock.

"You heard me correctly, Lieutenant," Pike told her. "Your joint project with Aja Killian has been recognized as a major contribution to the cultural and historical understanding of new and emerging members of the United Federation of Planets. Your dissertation and database have stirred things up at headquarters. Starting early next year xenohistorians will be a part of the crew of as many exploratory ships as possible."

"Wow," Marissa continued to stare at him, her mouth hanging open. "Just…wow," she shook her head in disbelief. "If it wasn't for you, sir, I wouldn't even be here and…"

Pike held up his hand to stop her. "I got you on the ship. You did all the hard work. Even Spock's been singing your praises… for a Vulcan that is. I think he said something along the line of 'an invaluable and essential member of the crew,'" he told her. "Jim, though, he's been pretty quiet - about you at least," he added speculatively, his eyes never leaving her face.

"Well," Marissa said as she fought to not blush, "I do report directly to Commander Spock and Jim… the captain," she fumbled again, "is the captain… and I'm sure he has other things that occupy his time."

"I know you helped him with that biography fiasco," Pike told her. "A fine example of obfuscation and bullshit, if I may say so," he nodded at her appreciatively.

"Thank you, sir," Marissa responded, trying to hold back a smile. "It was the least I could do for my captain."

Pike watched her closely for another moment then nodded toward the envelope. "That's the official letter informing you of your award. The real commendation will be given to you at the conference and ceremony on Stratnon V in four or so months. You'll be expected to give a speech and be part of a panel of experts, of course."

"Of course," Marissa replied absently as she scanned the letter. Shaking her head in awe she looked up at Pike. "I don't know what to say, sir," she told him honestly. Being asked to speak at a conference on Planet U, as Stratnon V was more familiarly known, was a huge honor, commendations aside. Stratnon V was where all the best and brightest in their fields met to study and discuss the latest and greatest findings each year.

"The _Enterprise_…we're supposed to be in the Tholian system during the time period of the conference, I don't know if I can…"

"The ship can spare you for this," Pike interrupted. "The organizers might even want Jim to talk or be part of a panel. The Admiralty will set up everything."

"Okay, but we had to skip the Tholian system before and we were…" she trailed off when she saw Pike's quirked eyebrow. How many ensigns knew their ship's destinations four months in advance?

"I don't think it will be a problem, Lieutenant," Pike told her.

"Yes sir…"

"Mama!" a small voice called out from behind her. "Ma ma ma ma ma ma," it continued to sing song.

"It appears we are not alone," Pike said frowning slightly.

"No sir," Marissa replied, clearing her throat uncomfortably. She was glued to her chair and unsure what to do. Jim was supposed to have had a chance to talk to Pike first. To warn him before they sprung Abby on him.

"Mama!" the tiny voice demanded as a small book crashed to the floor followed by a stuffed sehlat.

"My daughter," she shrugged apologetically as she stood up.

"I see," Pike replied dryly, eyebrows raised high.

Moving quickly, Marissa picked up Abby. "Hello, baby girl," she cooed into the baby's sleep warmed neck, "did you have a good nap?" Checking her diaper quickly, Marissa decided against changing it at the moment. Grabbing a teething toy from the crib she went back to her desk and faced Pike, Abby in her lap like armor.

"This, Admiral, is my daughter Abigail. We call her Abby for short." Abby ignored the introduction in favor of grabbing a PADD off her mother's desk and biting it.

"I see," Pike repeated, watching the infant closely. "My, what blue eyes she has," he commented wryly after a long uncomfortable moment.

"All the better to see you with?" Marissa answered with a shaky smile.

"How old is she?" he asked pleasantly enough, but there was a slight edge to his voice.

"Nine months old as of last week," she told him.

He watched mother and daughter for a long moment. "Anything you'd like to tell me?" he finally asked.

"Not really," Marissa sighed. "You weren't supposed to be early. Jim was supposed to have a chance to… to prepare you," she admitted.

"So Jim is Abigail's father," he asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" Marissa laughed uncomfortably.

"Fairly," Pike responded. "Not many people have eyes that blue. George did; and Jim – and now Abby. It seems to be a strong Kirk gene." He cocked his head to the side and seemed to be thinking. "Nine months," he repeated softly. "I wasn't aware that you knew Jim before he became captain."

Marissa shook her head, already blushing. "I didn't, not really, but after the Narada…after everything," she shrugged.

"Ahh," Pike nodded, seeming to understand instantly. "I imagine Jim is a good father."

"The best," Marissa agreed.

"I'm impressed," Pike told her, nodding his head. "You've managed to keep her a secret from the Admiralty. That couldn't have been easy. Why did you?"

Marissa shrugged, stroking Abby's hair. "By the time she was born things were finally calming down in regards to Jim and his past. Uhura was only getting interview requests once a week instead of daily. We thought it would be better to keep things… quiet."

"You didn't trust Starfleet not to leak something or turn it into a PR stunt," Pike easily read between the lines, his eyes watching Abby with a softness that Marissa had never seen on the man before.

"Basically," Marissa replied, not apologetic at all. "Could you imagine the memorial for the Battle of Vulcan? Bad enough Jim had to be put on display, but Abby? She's the granddaughter of a hero; the daughter of a hero; born nine months after such a disaster? She'd have become some kind of symbol of the future, which isn't fair to her. After all, it's going to be hard enough being a Kirk."

"And an O'Donnell," Pike pointed out.

"True, but no one knows me," Marissa countered. "When everyone first found out we were expecting her I was known as Jim's little librarian," she told him with some bitterness.

"Well, you won't be unknown for long," Pike told her.

Marissa raised an ironic eyebrow as if to say, 'oh really?'

Pike shrugged. "Okay, you won't be a household name like Jim, but in Starfleet circles you'll be well known," he told her. "I don't think you realize how much you have accomplished and set into motion with your dissertation."

Abby decided that she wanted down with a loud squawk. Juggling the infant Marissa stood up and went to close her office door. "That's really flattering, Admiral, but I was just doing my job."

Pike just shrugged his shoulders as he watched her put Abby on the office floor, giving her some toys to choose from. "That's what all the good ones say."

They sat quietly and watched Abby examine one of the toys. Gumming one briefly, she tossed it aside and crawled over to Pike, pulling herself up by his pant leg.

She made an "uh, uh!" sound as she bounced precariously on her unsteady feet.

"Do you want up?" Pike asked her with a fond smile. Abby continued bouncing and grunting. Pike looked at Marissa for permission.

"Go ahead – if you don't mind baby drool on your uniform," Marissa shrugged. "I don't think she's ever met a stranger. She has absolutely no fear."

"Sounds like her father," Pike commented as he picked her up easily and set her on his lap. Not being one to sit quietly, Abby immediately squirmed around. Standing in his lap she began pawing at the buttons on his uniform jacket.

"Be careful," Marissa warned. "She'll try to gum just about anything."

Pike tried to distract her, but her tiny hands were very persistent. Within minutes Pike's uniform was askew, his hair was ruffled, and his hand was covered in baby spit as Abby gnawed on one of his knuckles while finally sitting contentedly in his lap.

"I think you're a natural, sir," Marissa told him, trying not to smile too widely.

"I have some nieces and nephews and one of them has two kids now," he said by way of explanation. "So tell me, how do you manage everything and take care of Abby at the same time?"

Marissa shrugged. "Lots of juggling and not a lot of sleep. She was with either me or Jim until she was almost three months old," she explained further. "It was easier then – she just slept and ate. I could carry her around in a sling, or Jim could."

"That's something I'd pay to see," Pike smirked.

"I have pictures," Marissa smiled. "When she started getting more active and sleeping on a regular schedule we started putting her in daycare a couple of times a week if our schedules were too heavy. And there are some crew members who don't mind watching her occasionally. She's pretty spoiled, actually," Marissa admitted with a shake of her head.

"Who?" Pike asked. "I'm curious."

"Well, Dr. McCoy for one. He's her godfather. Spock and Uhura have watched her for a night or two. Uhura loves to babysit whenever she can."

"Spock?" Pike asked incredulously.

"Yeah," she smiled. "Abby loves Spock. He's really good with her. He's the only one that can get her to go to sleep faster than Jim."

"Spa'?" Abby questioned, stopping her gnawing and looking over at her mother.

"Yes, baby, Spock," she replied. "Spock is with daddy right now."

"Da da da da da Spa'," Abby chirped before starting to play with Pike's buttons again.

"She knows some basic words," Marissa said, seeing Pike's raised eyebrow as Abby chanted softly to herself. "Mama, Dada, Spa' for Spock. Nyota is Ny. Chekov is Pasha, but it sounds more like Pas'uh." She smiled fondly at her daughter. "She'll follow him anywhere once she lays eyes on him and it's funny because he has absolutely no idea what to do with her – but she adores him. Of course we can understand her words, but not many others can."

"Sounds like quite the accomplished young lady," Pike smiled down at her, stroking her silky hair. "Takes after her parents."

Marissa smiled. "Well, she's definitely a handful now that she's mobile. I don't know what we're going to do when she starts walking. Of course we think she's the cleverest baby ever."

"Of course," Pike agreed. "And you probably have the whole crew to back you up."

"Probably." Marissa watched as Pike made silly faces at Abby. It was amazing what an ice breaker a baby could be. This was so far from her image of Pike that it was funny. Admirals weren't supposed to make faces and be okay with baby drool all over their hand. It made him so much more approachable.

"Sir, I don't know what your dinner plans are for tonight," she began somewhat hesitantly, "but Jim was planning to be back soon and we were going to have dinner in our quarters. Would you like to join us? I was planning to make meatloaf, but I could fix something else if you like."

"Meatloaf would be amazing. I'd love to join you," Pike told her. "You cook?"

Marissa shrugged, blushing slightly. "It's kind of a tradition. Jim goes on an away mission; I cook a nice dinner when he gets back. Otherwise it's usually dinner in the mess or replicated in our quarters."

"So, you and Jim are…" Pike prodded, pointedly focusing on Abby so as not to make Marissa too uncomfortable.

"We're… together," Marissa told him. "We live in the same quarters, raise Abby together and… and all that." She waved a small hand. "We're committed to each other and to Abby but we're not…"

"Married?" Pike said helpfully, glancing over at her hand briefly.

"No," she shook her head, "we're not married. I don't really see the need at this point. Everything happened so fast and Jim is… well, he's Jim," she said as if that should explain everything. And apparently for Pike it did because he didn't say anything more about it.

"Do you need help with dinner?" he asked, smoothly changing the topic. "Since I'm early and Jim and Spock aren't here I have no real plans. I haven't cooked in a long time, but I can follow directions pretty well."

Marissa smiled. "Well… if you don't mind watching Abby while I get things going," she asked hesitantly. "I was just waiting for her to wake up."

"Sounds like a good plan," Pike said, standing up with Abby in one arm and reaching for his cane with the other. "I'll be the entertainment committee."

xXx

Jim walked quickly down the corridor mumbling under his breath. Of course Pike would show up early! He'd been scheduled to arrive mid-alpha shift tomorrow. Jim had figured that would give him plenty of time to prepare. He wasn't worried about the ship – she was in tip top shape. He had more personal items he wanted to talk with Pike about.

The trip down to the planet hadn't been completely necessary, more of a courtesy really, but if he'd known Pike was going to be here he would have just sent Spock. He had a lot to discuss with the Admiral. It didn't help that no one knew where the damn man was, either!

Ensign Pt'aminga had escorted him to the VIP quarters next door to the captain's quarters as soon as he had arrived over two hours ago, but he wasn't there now and no one had seemed to have seen him since.

"Mariss!" he called as he stepped into their quarters. Inhaling deeply, he smiled. The trip down to the planet might not have been necessary, but it did get him a home cooked meal. "What's for dinner? It smells great."

"Meatloaf," she called back from the kitchen. "Uh, Jim…"

"Riley told me Pike's on board," he interrupted, going into their bedroom to change shirts. The planet was extremely warm; Spock may have enjoyed it, but he'd sweated through both his shirts. Briefly he debated taking a quick shower but decided against it, he had more important things to worry about. Not that he thought Pike was going to be upset when he found out about Abby, but he wanted to be able to warn the man first.

Pulling on a clean shirt, he made his way to the kitchen. "No one seems to know where he is so obviously I haven't had a chance to…" Head popping out of his shirt, he stopped mid sentence to stare at the scene in front of him. Marissa was standing at the counter working on a salad and Pike… Admiral Pike was sitting at the table with Abby in his lap feeding her snack.

"Admiral," Jim nodded stiffly.

"Jim."

"You're early!" he burst out.

"So everyone's been telling me," Pike smirked.

xXx

Dinner was pleasant. The meatloaf – Jim's favorite – outstanding, and the conversation, when it wasn't interrupted by Abby and her demands, friendly and relaxed. Marissa had shooed them out of the kitchen, leaving Abby in her chair with an assortment of toys, mostly consisting of spoons and bowls, and insisted that she would clean up so they could talk.

They were currently in Jim's private office sipping some whiskey that had been a gift from the engineering crew when Abby was born. Leave it to a Scot to figure out the best present for a new dad. The bottle had also come with a pair of industrial strength ear plugs.

Looking around as he waited for Pike to make the opening salvo, Jim was surprised by how much Marissa's and Abby's presence were in what was supposedly his workspace. Marissa had her own desk and two sets of shelves that were covered in PADDs and files and actual books. There was a map of the Gamma Quadrant on one wall and pictures of Abby all over the other. Between their desks rested a small toy box. Definitely not the typical captain's office.

"You do things your own way, don't you Jim," Pike finally said after a long sip of whiskey.

Jim looked at him in slight confusion. "I guess so, sir," he answered with a shrug.

Pike smiled in what could be called a benevolent way. "It wasn't that long ago I was picking you up off a barroom floor drunk and bloodied. You were a stubborn, arrogant little bastard," he said fondly. "I offered you a challenge – four years to become an officer, eight to get your own ship."

"I remember," Jim smirked. He had been an arrogant little shit back then.

"You said you'd do it in three," Pike continued, "but I don't think either of us was thinking you'd make captain in three years."

Jim shook his head. "I wasn't that arrogant." Pike just stared at him with an arched brow. "Seriously. It never even crossed my mind that I could be a captain right out of the Academy. I mean… really?" He waved a hand around to encompass his domain – the _Enterprise_. "Who the hell would give a ship like this to a guy like me?"

"I'd say you went through a pretty extreme pressure cooker during your Academy days and then against Nero," Pike told him, taking another sip of his drink and apparently enjoying watching Jim squirm in his seat. "Not many men would have survived and thrived like you did. Hell, Spock's one of the top graduates ever from the Academy and even he failed."

"He didn't…" Jim began to defend his first officer.

"I'm not denigrating him, Jim," Pike interrupted. "Spock is exactly where he is supposed to be and he's the best first officer in the fleet. What Nero taught him – and all of us – was he was not cut out to be a captain. You on the other hand… no matter what detractors you might have, no matter who might be whispering behind your back, there's not one person who matters that doesn't know that you were born to be a captain; and the captain of the Federation flagship."

Jim just stared at his mentor with his mouth gaping like a fish, not expecting to hear such praise.

"Just look at your record," Pike continued. "You've impressed the hell out of a number of Federation members. They're practically drooling over meeting Captain Kirk. You've had more successful first contact missions that have expressed interest in joining the Federation in eighteen months than most captains have in five years. And there is the Cloralan coup where you succeeded when two other missions didn't even make it through the door." Jim opened his mouth to protest but was cut off.

"Then there's that energy device that you've modified, and the increase in warp that you've somehow finagled. And the discovery of that anomaly in the Gamma quadrant that has the astrophysicists all hot and bothered. And let's not forget the new dialect of Romulan and the three other languages that were finally deciphered. And I'm not even going to go into all that the botanists and biophysicists have come up with."

"But," Jim finally managed to get a word in, embarrassed to know that he was blushing if the heat of his face was any indicator. "That wasn't all me. Sure, I charmed a few diplomats and rulers, but the rest of it… the really important stuff, that wasn't me at all; that was the crew.

"All those wonderful accomplishments and engineering breakthroughs, those belong to Spock and Scotty and Chekov. The first contacts were all Marissa. Uhura and her team figured out those languages; and McCoy and Hanolan and his team in botany figured out the vaccine; and Rawciz runs the biophysics lab, and Donavon discovered that anomaly, I didn't even have the first clue what we were staring at. It wasn't me, sir. It was them. The crew. They're the ones who did all that stuff. I just… I just gave them what they needed."

Pike sat back and smiled like the Cheshire cat, his expression practically glowing. "And that is why you are a good captain."

"Huh?" Jim looked at him in confusion.

"You're a smart man, Jim," Pike told him, "but you know your limits. And you seem to know how to give your crew exactly what they need to succeed. And succeed they have."

"Well, that's easy," Jim said slowly. "I mean, they're brilliant. I don't need to do much more than sit back and listen to what they're saying."

"Do you know how long it takes some captains to realize that?" Pike asked pointedly.

"Uh, no?" Jim responded hesitantly, because he felt like that was what Pike wanted. He seriously didn't see what the problem was. Isn't that what a captain was supposed to do? Listen to his crew and make decisions and prioritize based on what could be of the most benefit to the ship and to the Federation.

"Years, if ever," Pike replied. "Being a captain is not easy. And I'm sure you've noticed on the all ship's comms that there is quite a lot of ego involved. A ship finds a new planet or technology and it's the captain who is given the praise. Not the poor shmucks in astrophysics who actually found it or the engineers who logged hours and hours retro-engineering it and figuring out how the thing actually worked. You've asked for, and been granted, more commendations for your crew than some captains ask for in their whole career."

Jim shrugged, feeling extremely embarrassed. "Well, they deserved it."

"Yes, they did," Pike agreed. "And you were selfless enough and aware enough to realize that it wasn't you who deserved the praise, but the people who actually did the work. Not everyone, not every captain, thinks that way, Jim,"

"I didn't do anything," Jim told him again. "They did it. They deserve the commendations, not me."

"Not all captains would see it that way," Pike repeated a bit condescendingly. "Or it takes them years, if not decades to realize that they are only as good as those who serve under them. It took you… what? Twelve – fifteen - hours? The Enterprise was barely away from everything and you were already composing commendation requests."

"Well, I didn't think I'd have a chance once we got back to Earth," Jim shrugged, his face now flaming red. "I had to do it while I still had the power – and those people seriously deserved it."

"Exactly," Pike sat back with a satisfied smile, sipping his whiskey and watching Jim.

Jim honestly didn't know what to say, so instead he took a large gulp of his whiskey and let the burn slide down to his stomach. He was just doing his job.

"There is one exception," Pike said after a long silence as he let Jim absorb what he had said.

"What?" Jim asked; his head cocked curiously.

"Who, not what," Pike corrected with a small smile.

"Okay, who?" Jim replied.

"Lieutenant O'Donnell," Pike answered, trying to contain a smirk.

"Oh," Jim looked at him nonplussed, a blush returning to his cheeks. "Well, Spock did put in…"

"Spock is not her Captain," Pike pointed out.

"I signed off on them," Jim countered.

"True, but every other commendation came directly from you. Hers came from your first officer," Pike said calmly. "A bit of a red flag – if you know what you're looking for."

"And did you?" Jim asked. He tried not to show it, but his hackles were starting to rise. He didn't like the idea of anyone nosing around in his and Marissa's lives, even Admiral Pike.

"I had my suspicions," Pike admitted, "after that book came out and you mentioned how she had helped with your response."

"And your point?" Jim asked calmly, though his voice was an octave lower than usual.

"Relax, Jim," Pike smiled. "I'm not saying anything bad about you and Marissa. In fact, I'm glad you've found someone. Being a captain can be extremely lonely. I just hadn't expected to find a baby Kirk on the ship."

"Well," Jim backed off, looking chagrined, "it's not like we planned…" he trailed off, shrugging uncomfortably. Abby was the best thing to ever happen to him, the fact that she was unplanned was something he didn't like to discuss, especially when he wouldn't change a thing.

"I believe that things happen for a reason," Pike stated matter-of-factly. "And it's obvious that you are all happy. And I'm happy for you. I loved being a captain, but it's not without its sacrifices. I'm glad you've found a way around them. You deserve it."

"Thanks," Jim finally replied.

"You're welcome," Pike told him with a nod, finishing off his drink. Jim followed suit and then leaned forward to fill both of their glasses. They sat in companionable silence, not really needing to say anything. But the silence was eventually broken by the jabbering of a pink pajama clad baby who came crawling into the room at amazing speed.

She went immediately to Pike and climbed up onto her feet using his leg for balance.

"Uh, uh," she grunted.

Smiling down at her, Pike put his glass on Jim's desk and then reached to pick her up.

"I see you are ready for bed, Miss Abby," he said lightly, his voice soft and pleasant, a far cry from the man who was used to barking orders and being instantly obeyed. "Aren't you pretty in pink?"

Abby smiled, showing off her four front teeth and then pointed over at Jim. "Da da."

"Yes," Pike beamed down at her. "That's daddy, and a very irascible fellow he is."

"Thanks, Admiral Pike," Jim said, sighing. "Bad enough I've got Bones giving her warnings, now you too."

"Pa," Abby said, patting the Admiral's hand. "Pa pa," she repeated.

Pike looked over at Jim who just shrugged at him with sly smile, not bothering to hide his amusement as Abby began to add Pike to her list of conquered Starfleet personnel.

"Pike," he finally said looking down at her with a fond smile. "Can you say Pike, Abby?"

"Pa pa!" she grinned up at him, patting his stomach this time.

"How about Chris? Can you say Chris?" he tried again.

"Pa pa!"

"Chris," Pike enunciated carefully.

"Pa pa!"

This went on for a few more rounds before Jim's laugh interrupted the little showdown going on between admiral and infant. "You might as well give up, sir. You have been named and your name is Pa pa."

"Pa pa!" Abby crowed, grinning over at her father and then patting Pike again.

Before Pike could say something in response Abby gave a huge yawn and both men smiled at her, noticing her droopy eyes.

Standing, Jim moved around his desk. "Is it bedtime, baby girl?" he asked her.

She said nothing, but held her arms up to be picked up by her father. Once in his arms she snuggled against his chest resting her head under his chin and inserting two fingers into her mouth.

"I think that's a yes," Pike smiled, looking at them fondly.

"We have a bit of a routine, sir," Jim told him, somewhat embarrassed. "It'll take us about fifteen minutes to get her to bed." At Pike's curious look Jim continued. "Marissa reads a story and then feeds her, and then I play her a song on my guitar."

Pike's eyebrow shot up. "You are a man of hidden talents."

Jim shrugged. "It's not like it matters, she can't tell if I'm good or bad yet. She just likes music." Looking down at the sleepy infant, Jim removed the fingers from her mouth. "Can you say night-night to Admiral Pike, Abby?"

Looking at Pike, Abby nodded. "Ni-ni, Pa pa," she said softly. Then she placed a hand over her mouth and waved it toward him.

"And a kiss, too," Jim chuckled. "Wow." He looked over at Pike and grinned. "Welcome to the family… Pa pa." Not giving Pike a chance to say anything, Jim took Abby off to bed.

Stunned, Pike sat back in his chair and stared at the empty doorway. Slowly he reached for his whiskey, but only cradled it in his hands. He'd been called many things in his life – Christopher, Chris, Chrissy, Pike, cadet, lieutenant, commander, captain, and now admiral, but Pa pa might just be the one he was most proud of.

_Please review. I hope this chapter lived up to expectations. It's actually the first chapter I wrote._

_And many thanks go to Royalpinkdogs for being my beta and sounding board – go read her post Mirror Jim Kirk outtake. It's well worth it. ;-)_


	11. Chapter 11 Stratnon V Day 1

_Author's warning: Here be plot. These next chapters are not like the previous chapters (at all). I'm leading up to my next Jim and Marissa adventure: Complications. Hope no one minds. ;-)_

**First Impressions and Quality Time**

**Chapter 11 Stratnon V (AKA Planet U)**

Marissa took a calming breath as she stood behind the curtains in the Zebona Clerkenval Auditorium, the second largest auditorium in New Christchurch on the planet Stratnon V. Months ago when Admiral Pike had given her the newly earned Lieutenant's stripes and the notification that she and Aja Killian had won the Cochrane Xenocultural Medal of Honor for Contributions to the Federation Mission Statement the idea of speaking about their database and its benefits to the Federation had seemed exciting. Now she felt scared to death.

Fortunately she would be part of a panel that included Aja, several of her professors from Starfleet and two other historians whom she respected, but only knew through their published works. It was an honor and she was totally flabbergasted that she was included in such a universe-renowned group, but that only made her that much more terrified. What if she messed up? What if she said the wrong thing? What if she didn't know the correct answer?

Jim had laughed at all her worries the night before and managed to distract her – something he was very good at doing. She wished he was here now, but he'd had his own meeting to attend with several other captains and at least three admirals that were on planet for this event. She wouldn't see him again, probably, until the reception dinner that evening.

"Don't be nervous," Aja said, startling her by giving her a friendly squeeze on her shoulder. "You will do fine."

Marissa shook her head, peaking around the curtain again. "This auditorium holds over two thousand beings. I've never… How can I…?"

Aja smiled warmly, amused by her counterpart's nervousness, but not unsympathetic. "Once we are out there you will not see the crowd, only the speaker. I promise, you will do well. The database is your idea. You know it inside and out. It was your enthusiasm and firm belief of what it could do that convinced me to help you, and now I am riding on your coattails – a phrase I learned from your professor, Dr. Greegan."

Shaking her head, Marissa immediately countered her friend's statement. "If it wasn't for you…"

"If it wasn't for me," Aja interrupted, "it would have taken you a year to finish rather than the six months it took both of us. I only helped. It was you who came up with the idea and guided it to fruition. I am very proud of you," Aja said fondly. "You are so very young and you have done so much already." She laughed. "I am also jealous too."

"Now you're just being silly," Marissa grinned.

"It is true," Aja told her. "I am just a bit jealous, but also thankful that you have included me in your work. It was a most stimulating project. I look forward to collaborating more."

"Of course," Marissa agreed absently, once again distracted by the noise on the other side of the curtain. "I wish Jim was here."

"All is well?" Aja asked and Marissa knew she didn't mean the crowd.

"All is very well," she smiled.

"That is good. And I will get to see Abigail?"

"Yes, Rand, Jim's yeoman, will be bringing her down tonight after dinner. We each have two more commitments during the conference, but they're staggered enough that we can share baby duties or one of our friends can watch her for a little while."

"So she will no longer be a secret?" Aja asked.

Marissa shook her head. "She was never a secret, per say, but we didn't really announce that she was born."

"Semantics," Aja smiled.

"Yes," Marissa agreed with a grin, "but an important distinction. We're not going to take out an announcement in the New Christchurch news ticker, but we're not going to hide her either. We have nine days here and this is the closest to an Earth-like planet that we've been to. I mean there are malls and shopping and amusement parks and… all the fun stuff that we don't often see on other planets."

"True," Aja agreed, "I must admit I enjoy the shopping locations. And the food."

"Oh, the food," Marissa practically groaned. "I love the fact that we can get food from twenty different star systems and we can get just about every cuisine from Earth, too. I am dying for some good, old fashioned American hamburgers and teriyaki."

"I have not had these before," Aja told her. "I do enjoy French food, but I find the British and German styles to be a bit heavy for my tastes."

"You never made it to the Americas?" Marissa asked.

"Once, briefly, in the area of New Orleans, so the food was very similar to the French continental."

"I've never had real French food, I don't think," Marissa said thoughtfully. "Maybe we can find something here and you can tell me if it's authentic."

"We shall do that," Aja agreed with a small nod. "But now we will go on stage and answer the questions they have for us."

Marissa eyes widened almost comically. "What? Now?"

"Yes, my friend, now," Aja said with a small push in the back as she guided Marissa on the stage and to their seats. "You will do well," she whispered as they sat.

Marissa managed to nod at the speaker when he introduced her to the audience, her expression wooden as she tried to smile through her nervousness. She could feel her palms sweating where they were grasped together in her lap.

"Relax," Aja said softly, leaning over and squeezing Marissa's white knuckled fingers. "You know everything you need to know about the database and more."

Marissa nodded stiffly in return and did her best to relax at least a little bit, still it wasn't until the third question was posed directly to her rather than to one of her colleagues that Marissa relaxed fully.

It was like flipping a switch. One moment she was anxious, the next moment she was in charge explaining the genesis for the database and how the parameters were chosen and then set. There were a few pointed digs at their research and their suppositions but between the members of the panel they were brushed off easily. Marissa was quite flustered when Dr. Greegan and Dr. Larkham, two of her professors from the Academy spoke so effusively about her graduate work and studies.

In the end it wasn't nearly as bad as she had thought it would be. Her next two meetings would be of a much more intimate nature. One was an invitation only for her peers in the xenohistory and cultural field, the other was for the Starfleet brass to sound out her ideas and ask questions as to how her database could truly benefit the fleet.

She wasn't nervous about facing her peers. They could be extremely harsh in their judgments, but as her peers she could speak to them on the same level. So far she hadn't heard any ripples of discontent from the historical community.

What really terrified her was the idea of speaking in front of an assembly of Admirals, Captains, Commanders and other top officials. They wouldn't care about her theory, they'd want results and while she believed that her database would provide results, it wasn't going to be an instantaneous thing. After all, as Jim pointed out, Starfleet was used to doing things a certain way and they really didn't like to change. She had to convince them that this change, as small as it seemed to her, was for the good of Starfleet and the Federation. She definitely had her work cut out for her.

xXx

"I heard you knocked their socks off," Jim whispered in her ear when he came up beside her.

Instinctively Marissa turned towards him, her body curving against his side. He gave her a quick squeeze and then they separated, mindful of all the people around them. Now was not the time to start any speculations about their relationship.

"It went well," Marissa told him, sipping at her punch and watching everyone socialize. "I was incredibly nervous, but Aja got me through. Once the questions started I was fine. How'd your meeting go?"

"Boring," Jim told her, his arm brushing against hers as he lifted his glass for a drink.

Marissa leaned toward him, her head and body still facing forward. "Have I ever told you how sexy you look in your dress uniform?" she whispered out of the corner of her mouth.

Jim smiled, hiding it behind his glass. "Not lately."

"You're a walking hazard," she told him with a playful frown. "All the women are staring at you."

Aja was making her way towards them when Jim leaned down, a little too close to be considered proper. "Just so you know, you'll have ten seconds to undo all those blasted buttons when we get back to our rooms, otherwise I'm tearing them off. I'm not the only one who looks good in a dress uniform." Straightening he nodded to Aja who had just arrived. "Ms. Killian, it is good to see you again," he bowed politely.

"Captain Kirk, it is good to see you too, but I believe we are beyond such formalities," she smiled at them both. "I hope I am not interrupting anything?" She glanced at Marissa, who was blushing lightly and pointedly not looking at Jim.

"Nothing," Jim grinned, "nothing at all, Aja. We were just discussing plans for the evening."

"I see," Aja said slowly, her large nostrils flaring slightly, causing Marissa to turn bright red. "Unfortunately the night is still young," she said with a mischievous smile. "Your plans will have to wait. I am sorry."

"No sorrier than I," Jim replied with a smirk.

"Jim!" Marissa elbowed him in the side. "Behave."

Jim winked. "Always," he told her softly before turning away. "Admiral, it's good to see you again. We really have to stop meeting like this."

"Shut up, Kirk," Chris Pike grimaced. "I would like to congratulate Lieutenant O'Donnell on what I hear was a very well received Q&A. Those things can be murder," he told her, "if you don't know what you're doing or your idea isn't strong enough. It can be make or break time for whole careers if you blow it at one of these conferences."

Marissa just stared at him dumbfounded, unable to speak. She hadn't realized it could be that bad.

"Fortunately for Starfleet, Admiral," Aja said smoothly, "Marissa is one of the brightest minds in her field. She did amazingly well today. You should all be proud."

"Oh, we are," Pike nodded, smiling at Marissa, "aren't we, Jim?" he questioned slyly.

"Of course we are, Admiral," Jim smirked back, one hand running quickly down Marissa's arm and squeezing her hand, "nothing but the best for the Enterprise."

Pike nodded. "So," he began, glancing around briefly, "do I get to see Abby anytime soon?"

Marissa couldn't help smiling at his obvious interest in seeing their daughter. "Yeoman Rand is bringing her down later tonight," she told him.

"She's what? Thirteen, fourteen months?" he asked.

"Thirteen," Jim answered, "and she's a terror on two legs."

"Jim!"

"Well, she is," Jim countered with a wide smile. "Now that she's fully mobile she's all over the place. Nothing's safe. I found her on my desk the other day and she climbed up some shelves to get to her toy that I put up there the week before."

"It was her lyre," Marissa with a frown.

"Yes, it was and it was driving me crazy," Jim replied, with exaggerated patience. It was obvious they had had this conversation before. "I'm all for musical appreciation and I know she likes it, but a man likes to have some peace in his quarters sometimes."

"Spock's giving her lessons," Marissa pointed out. Jim shook his head, giving Marissa a crooked smile.

"She's thirteen months, Mariss," Jim said with a heavy sigh. "She's a bit young for music lessons. She's not really learning anything yet."

"Yes she is! She's not banging on it any more. She's learned to strum. Besides, it makes Spock happy."

"Wait a minute," Pike broke into their conversation. "Spock is giving a one year old music lessons?" he asked incredulously, suppressing a grin.

"Yes, Admiral, I am," Spock said calmly, coming up behind them with Uhura. "And Miss Abigail is doing admirably." He looked over at Jim. "She has shown an appreciation for music and is already able to recognize a melody."

Jim rolled his eyes. "She's a baby, Spock, she likes music. Of course she recognizes different songs. You play to her all the time."

"I am not the only one who indulges Miss Abigail's musical interests," Spock pointed out.

"Well, who wouldn't like Uhura's voice," Jim said.

"I was not referring to Lieutenant Uhura, Captain, I was referring to you."

Pike, who had been watching their brief exchange with avid interest, his heading moving back and forth between the two men, a bemused expression on his face, now waited for Jim to say something.

"Do you sing and play, Jim?" Aja asked.

Seeing a blush spreading across his checks, Marissa took pity on him. "Jim's not only good at captaining ships. He can also play the guitar and sing fairly well. Too bad you didn't get to hear him last time, Admiral. He's a bit shy."

"Hey!" Jim protested.

Marissa smiled and patted his arm soothingly. "Abby's taken a liking to any kind of music, really, and likes it when people sing or play an instrument. Spock and Uhura got her a mini lyre for her birthday and it was an instant hit. Thing is, it doesn't have a volume control and it's her favorite toy."

"I see," Pike nodded thoughtfully, "this is a whole other side to the two of you," he said to Jim and Spock. "I am definitely intrigued." The dinner gong rang out and they all began to make their way towards the dining hall. "Think of it this way," Pike said, slapping Jim companionably on the shoulder, "at least they didn't get her a drum set."

Everyone except Spock laughed at Pike's quip.

Jim looked beseechingly at the ceiling, though he was smiling. "Thanks so much, Admiral. And when did you want to babysit…Pa pa?"

_Please review!_


	12. Chapter 12 Stratnon V  The Job Offer

**First Impressions and Quality Time**

**Chapter 12 Stratnon V (AKA The Job Offer)**

Marissa sighed as she sank into the couch, toeing off her dress shoes and placing her feet gently onto the coffee table. "I hate heels," she told Jim.

"Not that they do you much good," he smiled. "You're still short." He laughed when she suck her tongue out at him.

"Just for that," Marissa declared, "You get baby duty."

"What do you say, Abby-girl?" he looked down at the sleepy almost-toddler in his arms. Rand had met them in their suite and Abby had immediately run to her father. Once in his arms she'd put her thumb in her mouth and rested her head tiredly on his shoulder. "Has it been a long day?"

Abby didn't respond. Instead she tucked her selhat closer and closed her eyes.

"This shouldn't be too bad," Jim said hopefully. Lately Abby had taken to protesting going to bed. They read book after book, sang several songs as Jim played his guitar and yet she fought sleep until her eyes were bleary and barely able to stay open. If they left too soon she'd cry loudly and neither of them liked it, so for now they humored her.

The doorbell rang, causing Abby's head to pop up.

"Do'r," she exclaimed.

"That's right, it's the door," Marissa said, standing up and placing a kiss on her head. "Mommy will get the door and daddy will put Abby to bed." She looked up at Jim. "Janice said she put up the crib in our room," she told him.

"So much for those buttons," Jim sighed dramatically.

"You can put it in the other room, but you know she won't go to sleep in a strange room," Marissa told him. "And I know you won't be able to handle her crying."

"True," Jim smiled. "Come on Abby-girl, bed time."

"Sto-ree," she mumbled.

"Yes, I will read you a story," Jim told her, "but only after you are in your jammies."

Marissa opened the door to the suite as they left the room. "Hello, may I help you?"  
she asked the two men standing in front of her. Giving them the once over she noticed right away from their expensive pressed suits and shiny shoes that they weren't Starfleet. Starfleet paid well, especially when you figured in that room and board were basically paid for, but even most admirals couldn't afford designer clothes - even if they knew who Marc Jacobs XXII was in the first place.

The shorter of the two men smiled and Marissa was suddenly reminded of a used car salesman- or a shark. "My name is Daniel Montgomery," he said pleasantly holding out his hand, "and this is my associate Stephan Vizzini. We're here to talk to you about a job opportunity."

"Really," Marissa replied, her shields already on alert. Politely she shook his offered hand, not surprised when he gave it a light squeeze as if she would break if he really shook her hand.

"Really," he smiled in return. "Can we come in?"

Marissa paused, thinking about it. She wasn't getting dangerous vibes off of them; just sleazy ones. Besides, Jim was in the room and they were expecting Spock and Nyota soon.

"I don't have much time, I'm expecting some friends shortly," she told them honestly, allowing them to enter the room.

"We only need a few minutes," Montgomery told her.

Sitting on the couch again, she waved a hand to the two chairs opposite her. "Have a seat," she told them. "Sorry I can't offer you a drink."

"Not a problem, not a problem," Montgomery told her, sitting down and then perching himself on the edge of the chair like an overeager child. "Let me ask you this, Miss O'Donnell…"

"Lieutenant," Marissa interrupted, "or Doctor," she shrugged in afterthought, after all she hadn't officially been a 'doctor' for more than a few weeks.

"Excuse me?" Montgomery paused, for once looking off his game.

"My title," she explained patiently, her eyebrow raised condescendingly. "Lieutenant O'Donnell or Doctor O'Donnell. I haven't been a 'miss' since I was in high school."

"Of course, of course, I do apologize," Montgomery replied, glancing over at his partner who pursed his lips in a small frown. "So, Doctor O'Donnell, have you ever thought about looking for a job outside Starfleet? Somewhere in the private sector?"

Marissa paused as if thinking about it, but then shook her head. "Not really."

"Well, that's what we're here to talk with you about," he leaned forward. "We work for a very large, very well funded company that is looking for someone like you to help us with our off world projects."

Marissa made a noncommittal hum and he continued.

"Someone like you, with your doctorate and your accomplishments at such a young age; your ambition - you could go far with our company. We could give you opportunities that Starfleet can't even touch and without all the rules and regulations."

"Rules and regulations are necessary if things are to proceed properly and to the benefit of all involved," Marissa pointed out politely, sounding surprisingly like Spock in her head.

"Of course, of course," Montgomery quickly agreed, "but you must admit that Starfleet can be a very… confining environment for someone of your intelligence and capabilities."

"Mr. Montgomery," Marissa said calmly. "I am under no illusions that I rank even in the top twenty-five percent of Starfleet's most intelligent members. I am a historian, but I am not a genius."

"Yes, yes, you are a historian," Montgomery nodded enthusiastically as if that was the point he was trying to make all along. "And as a preeminent historian you are wasted in Starfleet. Starfleet has always focused on the sciences – everyone knows that. That's what Starfleet geniuses do – biology, chemistry, astrophysics… all branches of science. History and culture are not their forte, you must admit that."

"I don't disagree," Marissa allowed, "but it's changing. They're branching out, opening up new dialogues and listening to what historians have to say."

"But for how long?" he countered. "I know things seem great now. You just produced an amazing database for them to incorporate, but what have they given you? A medal? A promotion? In the private sector your work – with the right company – could be worth millions."

Marissa had no comment to that. She knew that she could make a killing in the private sector, the thing was, could she live with herself afterwards.

"You never did say what company you're with, Mr. Montgomery."

He smiled widely, obviously thinking that he had hooked her. "We were sent here by no less than one Terrance Summerall, founder and CEO of UNISTAR Incorporated. He wants you to join his family, so to speak, and give you carte blanche in contacting and negotiating with unknown planets and systems."

"Wow," Marissa sat back in astonishment. "I am impressed." She didn't tell him that it wasn't in a good way. She, Jim and Spock had been talking about UNISTAR shortly before they beamed down for the conference yesterday. UNISTAR was really a conglomerate of different business entities that had been bought out and absorbed by multi quadrillionare Terrance Summerall. Every industry was contained under the UNISTAR umbrella – banking, mining, manufacturing, computing, R & D – you name it, some branch of UNISTAR did it and in the past few years they'd been expanding their reach to new and emerging planets and solar systems. Through good timing or insider tips they were the first company in and they always seemed to get the prime contracts.

Marissa had been most upset with their practical invasion and raping of a small colony in the Gamma quadrant. The colony had been there for over four hundred years and had developed a peaceful, mixed culture of Terrans, Andorians and a few other species. Their technology was low – they were obviously capable of space flight, but they hadn't developed much past the level of technology that got them there in the first place. Instead they lived as a more rural society, close to nature and the rhythms of the planet.

Everything was fine until UNISTAR entered the mix and someone realized that the planet was rich in dilithium and other minerals. Within a year, UNISTAR had essentially invaded the planet, setting up strip mines, poisoning water supplies with run off, and relocating the natives from their homes all in the name of progress. Of course they had the tacit approval of the government, at least at first. They promised new schools and better technology. They promised a percentage of the profits to encourage growth and prosperity. And when the mines ended up being stripped bare years ahead of schedule they left and never even bothered to clean up their mess.

UNISTAR was all about profit and Marissa worried about what other planets had been taken in by the unscrupulous company.

"So let me guess," Marissa finally spoke, trying to keep her anger and disdain from showing. "You want me to use my expertise and my database – or something similar since Starfleet basically owns it – to help UNISTAR initiate contact with new planets."

"Exactly, exactly," Montgomery nodded, smiling widely apparently please with her quick understanding. His partner had yet to crack a smile and seemed to be watching her closely.

"I see," Marissa shook her head. "I'm sorry to have wasted your time, gentlemen, but even if I wanted to I couldn't leave Starfleet."

"That's not a problem; not a problem at all," Montgomery countered. "You've been enlisted, including your time at the Academy for over five years. I know the Enterprise is on a long range mission for another three or four years, but if you request to leave we can certainly make sure that the Admiralty listens to your request. It shouldn't take more than a couple of months to have you free and clear. You can write your own datachip with UNISTAR and start doing the research that you want to do."

"You mean what UNISTAR wants me to do," Marissa pointed out.

"Of course, you'd have your superiors to report to, just like with any job," Montgomery backpedaled, "but the latitude you'd be given would be greater than anything you'd get from Starfleet. After all, with Starfleet you are just a member of the crew; you have no say in where you go or what you do. And I can't imagine your pay grade is all that much compared to what we can offer you."

"True," Marissa nodded. It was odd, Marissa thought. On one hand the man had recognized her intelligence yet now he was trying to fool her by feeding her line after line of bullshit. "But it's not that simple, gentleman, you see I am… involved with someone. And I don't think my partner is interested in leaving Starfleet."

"That's not a problem," Montgomery waved aside her concern. "We can offer him – or her - a job. Whatever they want and at probably twice the amount they're making now."

"You don't even know what he does," Marissa commented.

"It doesn't matter, but for argument's sake what does he do?" Montgomery asked politely. "Science officer? A historian like you? Engineer?"

"Oh, he's in command," Marissa said, trying to hold back her smile.

Montgomery's eyebrows rose to his hair line and he looked like Christmas had come early. "Excellent! Excellent. We can always use a take charge kind of guy. I'm sure we can find him a place that he will like. After all, climbing the ladder in Starfleet is not easy. I'd imagine it's especially difficult on a ship like the _Enterprise_ with so much young blood, so to speak. We could definitely offer him more."

"I imagine so," Marissa said softly, pursing her lips and trying not to smile. "I still don't think he'd be interested."

"You won't know until you ask him," Montgomery pointed out. "Is that who you are waiting for? Or is he staying with you? I've never seen a first time speaker get a suite like this; especially a lieutenant – no offense." He offered her a charming smile. "Don't get me wrong, you definitely deserve it, but most people are stuck in singles or sharing with colleagues. You've made an impression on Starfleet if they booked you here. From what I've seen in the past this hotel in particular is reserved for the big Starfleet brass – Admirals and Captains and high Federation officials."

"Oh, I know, I'm very lucky," Marissa nodded in agreement, still managing to contain her smile. "Jim!" she called out loudly, startling Montgomery.

"Oh, he's here," he commented enthusiastically, practically rubbing his hands together. "Excellent. Excellent."

"What?" Jim yelled back, obviously irritated.

"Can you come here a minute? We have some visitors that would like to ask you something."

There was a pause and then some crying before Jim was standing in the doorway still in his dress uniform with a tired Abby in his arms. "Okay, but you get to put her down then. I almost had her…." He trailed off when he saw the two men sitting on the chairs opposite Marissa staring at him with identical expressions of shock. "Hello," Jim nodded politely, looking at Marissa for some clarification.

"Jim, I would like to introduce you to Mr. Montgomery and his associate – sorry I forgot your name," she shrugged at their silent visitor. "They're from UNISTAR and they want to offer us a job. Well," she corrected herself, "they want to offer me a job, but they're willing to give you something too, if it will get me to leave Starfleet."

Jim shook his head at the mischievous grin on Marissa's face. "UNISTAR, huh?" Marissa nodded eagarly. "The same UNISTAR that we were discussing the other day? The UNISTAR that basically destroyed a colony for profit and then left Starfleet to pick up the pieces? That UNISTAR?"

"Yep, that's the one," Marissa nodded and grinned. "So what do you say? Want to jump ship? They said they could make it happen without a problem. They know just the people to talk to."

"I bet they do," Jim said under his breath before turning to look at the men. Montgomery had lost his enthusiastic expression and his associate was frowning even more. "Not that we're not flattered," Jim said, his sarcasm thinly veiled, "but I think we're going to have to decline your… kind offer." Moving across the room, a pink clad Abby now asleep on his shoulder, Jim opened the door.

Both UNISTAR men stood graciously. Montgomery, who had recovered somewhat, grinned and winked at Marissa. "Can't blame us for trying," he said good-naturedly. "If you ever change your mind, here's my card." Marissa just stared at him, one eyebrow raised at his presumption. When she didn't take it he placed it on the table in front of her. "Just in case," he winked again.

Jim cleared his throat menacingly, or as menacingly as he could with a sleeping child in his arms.

There were footsteps in the hallway as the visitors made their way out the door.

"Captain," Spock nodded, now face to face with Montgomery in the doorway. "I was not aware that you had visitors. We can return…"

"Nah, its okay, Spock," Jim told him. "These guys were just leaving." He pointedly looked at the two men as if daring them to protest.

"Thank you for your time, Captain," Montgomery nodded, sticking out his hand. Jim just stared at him. After an awkward moment they finally left. Spock and Nyota entered and Jim closed the door.

"May I inquire who those two men were?" Spock asked.

"Someone with a job offer," Marissa giggled from the couch.

Jim smirked at her, trying to be serious. "Did you have to lead them on like that?"

Marissa shrugged and smiled further.

"What job offer? For who?" Uhura asked.

"For me!" Marissa told her gleefully. "But they'd be willing to take Jim too, if I wouldn't leave Starfleet without him."

Spock looked over at Jim who just shrugged.

"What company did they represent?"

"UNISTAR," Jim said flatly.

"Yup," Marissa agreed. "UNISTAR. They wanted to give me carte blanche in my research so that I could help them achieve their company goals."

"More like use you to undermine and subjugate more planets and colonies to make their bottom line that much larger," Uhura commented dryly.

"Exactly."

"They obviously do not know you and did not do their research," Spock commented. "That is a poor business practice to come into a meeting so poorly prepared."

"It sure was," Marissa agreed. Standing up she went over to Jim and took Abby from him. "Why don't you get the game board set up. I'll put her in her crib."

"Don't let it go to your head," Jim told her mock sternly. "You know what kind of business they are." He went to smack her on the behind playfully but she dodged him.

"True, but they wanted me," she pointed out cheekily. "You were just an after thought."

"I'm never an afterthought," Jim protested.

"You were this time," Marissa taunted, disappearing into their room with Abby.

"I believe Marissa is correct at this time, Captain," Spock pointed out. "You were an afterthought. I cannot imagine that you would be good for business."

Uhura snorted at Jim's dumbfounded expression. "Thank you so much, Spock."

_Please review_

_And because I keep on forgetting to say thank you: Thank you Royalpinkdogs for all that you have done in beta'ing and encouraging me! You rock!_


	13. Chapter 13 Sam

**First Impressions and Quality Time **

**Chapter 13 Sam**

The next few days of the conference passed peacefully for Marissa after her first big symposium. She wasn't slated to be part of a panel again until day six with her peers and again on day eight with Starfleet. Jim had gone to a few meetings regarding tactics and diplomacy, but for the most part he was free and clear for the rest of the conference to spend time with her and Abby. It was a nice little mini break with moments of panic as Marissa prepared for her talks, but still pleasant enough.

Today they planned to hit the local equivalent of a mall. It was a huge facility, easily the size of three football stadiums stacked four high along with an outdoor facility complete with more shopping, rides, a small lake, and a small zoo. Abby wouldn't really be too interested at her age, but Marissa was definitely looking forward to shopping and eating. Jim was putting on a good face, but she knew he wasn't exactly thrilled; still it was a way to spend time together that was totally different than anything they could do on the Enterprise.

Being smart and knowing that both Jim and Abby would have their limits, Marissa planned her strategy well, alternating her shopping venues with things that would interest the other two and by lunchtime she was happy to say that there hadn't been a single meltdown. She'd managed to pick up a couple pair of new shoes, some workout clothes, a couple pairs of casual pants and more tops than she really needed but couldn't resist, as well as the usual staples of socks and underwear – replicated ones just weren't comfortable enough. She pointed out a lingerie shop and promised Jim they'd return later when they didn't have Abby. He heartily approved.

Jim chose some more causal clothes, as well as some shoes. At a music shop he picked up some strings for his guitar as well as a couple books of music – Classic Terran Hits of the 20th and 21st Centuries and an Alpha Quadrant Collection.

Abby made out like a bandit with new clothes, bedding, and several PADDs with children's classic stories from around the universe as a well as a couple of infant learn to read and educational programs. She was a bit young for some of them, but they had no idea when they might have a chance like this again. The one thing that Abby was most excited about, and cost Jim and Marissa quite a few credits, was a piano keyboard that was made for children under five. It had a holographic projector that showed music, light up keys for aiding in learning and – most importantly for Jim – a volume control. It could also be made to sound like a hundred different instruments.

Abby had been in love with it the moment Marissa sat her down in front of it while waiting for Jim. She really wouldn't have thought to buy it except that Abby, after a few minutes of tapping randomly on the keys, had managed to play a few recognizable notes of an old Vulcan lullaby Spock had been teaching her - she didn't do it just once, but several times, sounding out the song on the keyboard. Then it was just a matter of showing Jim and the piano was sold.

Luckily they didn't have to cart the items they bought around with them. By simply swiping their hotel room key they were able to have everything delivered to their suite. They still had the rental stroller to push around because Abby was too stubborn to want to sit in it. She'd never been in one before and after the first five minutes she let it be known that she would rather be carried. Marissa still hoped that she would manage to take her afternoon nap in it after lunch, but she was prepared to cut the day short if necessary. There was nothing worse than a cranky baby.

Lunch was at a Terran style barbeque joint that had Jim salivating the moment they walked by. Marissa enjoyed a pulled pork sandwich, green beans and potato salad. Abby was fed bits and pieces from her parent's plates while gnawing on a corn cob. Jim managed to put away what was called the Manager's Special; a half pound each of pulled pork, brisket, and smoked sausage, as well as an half order of baby back ribs.

"Len would kill you if he could see what you're eating right now," Marissa smirked, trying to retie Abby's bib in order to save her clothes from barbeque sauce.

"Wha' Bones don't know won't 'urt 'im," Jim replied through a mouth filled with sausage. He had a smudge of barbeque sauce on his cheek that Marissa wiped off for him.

"You're worse than Abby," she told him.

"It's barbeque, Mariss," Jim protested. "If it's not messy then it just isn't any good. Bones would agree with that!"

"If you say so."

"Didn't you have any good barbeque places in Colorado?" he asked, grabbing another rib from the extra large tray in front of him.

"I guess," Marissa shrugged. "But dad didn't like to eat out much. Nana is a great cook so we didn't mind, and Nancy's a vegetarian. If we went out, barbeque wasn't really on the list. Janine and I used to go to this hole in the wall wings place just off campus when we were at the Academy, though."

"Arnie's?" Jim asked. "That place was amazing. They have the best teriyaki glaze and their mango sauce is out of this world."

"That's the place," Marissa nodded, smiling indulgently as he wolfed down his last rib and moved on to the brisket. "I always got the habanera."

"Really?" Jim looked at her incredulously.

She shrugged. "The hotter the better, I say."

"Hmmm," Jim looked at her thoughtfully. "Something I never would have guessed."

"I have hidden depths," Marissa countered with a smile. "So, what do you want to do next? Considering that you are able to walk once you finish that meal."

"I'll be fine," Jim told her, now pouring more sauce over the pulled pork. "Why don't we head outside and walk around the lake area. Abby can sleep in the stroller and we can talk. Then when she wakes up we can go to the zoo or maybe do some of the kiddie rides. You don't have any more shopping you want to do, do you?" he asked her warily.

"No, I'm done for now," Marissa laughed softly. "If I decide to do any more I'll take Nyota or Aja."

"Good," Jim said, sounding relieved.

"It wasn't that bad," Marissa scolded him playfully. "It was only a couple of hours and I didn't drag you in and out of every store."

"That would take days," he said, pointing his fork at her, "considering the size of this place."

"True," Marissa agreed. "You finish up while I go clean and change Abby. Then hopefully she'll fall asleep." Doing a quick wipe down, Marissa picked up Abby and the diaper bag and went to the washroom, leaving Jim to the rest of his carnivorous feast.

The bathroom wasn't too big, only half a dozen stalls, but luckily there were two baby stations because one of them was already occupied. Levering the empty station into the flat position, Marissa wiped down the tray with a sanitizing cloth and then put Abby down on it. She nodded politely at the dark haired woman at the next changing station.

"Peter, Alex," the woman called over her shoulder as Marissa began to clean Abby, "are you two finished yet?"

"Yes, Mom," one voice called out, followed by a toilet flushing.

"Just a sec'," another younger voice said.

The woman turned back to the baby on the changing station. "Peter, please help your brother."

"Mom!" the older boy whined, coming out of a stall. He was seven or eight years old with dark blonde hair.

"I's fine!" the other boy protested. There was a bump and a splat and then the toilet flushed.

Marissa tried to hold back her smile when the woman let out a resigned sigh.

"Wash your hands, both of you," the woman said sternly, "with soap and water."

"Yes, mom," the two boys chorused.

"You have your hands full," Marissa commented with a small smile. "How old are they?"

"Eight, four and four months, and yes, they definitely keep me on my toes," the woman smiled fondly down at the dark haired infant on the changing table. "Is that your first one?"

Marissa glanced down at Abby, a bit of stunned expression on her face. "Yes, she is… our first," Marissa managed to respond. Saying first, rather than only, implied there would be more and that idea… was actually a pretty nice one.

"I wanted a girl," the woman told her, snapping up her youngest son's pants, "but no luck. We're done now. Three is my limit."

Marissa nodded, focusing on getting Abby's pants pulled off now that she'd managed to clean her face and hands. "We haven't really discussed… how many…"

"You'll know the right number when it happens," the woman told her sagely. "Trust me, you'll know. Alexander! No splashing water. Now dry your hands and let's go meet your father."

"Abigail Kirk!" Marissa declared, ignoring the family drama going on behind her. "How in the world did you get corn down your pants?" She shook her head ruefully and grabbed a new diaper and some wipes.

"Are you here for the conference?" the woman asked, now standing at Marissa's shoulder with the baby in her arms and the four year old in her grip.

"Uh, yes," Marissa nodded, looking at the woman and seeing a strange tension in her face that wasn't there before.

"With Starfleet?"

"Yes," Marissa responded, trying not to frown at the way the woman was staring down at Abby.

The woman didn't say anything, just looked continued to stare, before she seemed to come back to the present, her middle son tugging on her hand impatiently. "What beautiful eyes," she looked back up at Marissa's own dark blue eyes. "She must get them from her daddy."

"Well, yes, she does," Marissa answered, now watching the woman with just as much curiosity. Glancing down she looked at the two young boys standing next to their mother. They had bright blue eyes just like Abby. Before she could say anything the woman was moving quickly towards the door.

"Enjoy the conference," she called over her shoulder.

"Well, that was weird," Marissa told Abby. Dismissing the strange woman and her blue-eyed boys, she changed Abby and went back to join Jim.

Abby put up a token protest when they put her into the stroller, but once the seat was reclined, she was covered in her blanket and selhat was tucked in her arms she was out for the count. Jim and Marissa leisurely made their way out of the mall and toward the artificial lake. They didn't talk much, just enjoyed the scenery and the fresh air. Neither of them wanted to talk about ship business and Marissa didn't want to start panicking about her next panel.

Eventually they found a vacant bench and sat down, Abby's stroller in front of them. Marissa brought her feet up onto the bench and curled against Jim's side, his arm around her shoulders, as they stared out at the blue water, watching the remote control ships racing around.

There was a loud splash to their left. When Marissa looked over she recognized the boys from the bathroom. They were busy throwing the biggest rocks they could find into the lake. The woman was standing next to a stroller with her back towards Marissa and Jim talking to a tall, light brown haired man. In a sleepy haze that often followed a large lunch, Marissa watched as the couple talked, the woman's hands waving occasionally at the boys and then behind her. The man didn't seem to be saying much, just staring over her shoulder in their general direction. After a moment of two, Marissa turned her head into Jim's shoulder and closed her eyes, letting the calmness of the day and the warm breeze lull her into a half sleep. She could feel Jim relax next to her, his legs sprawled out, one foot resting on the bottom of the stroller.

A throat clearing nearby caused Marissa to jerk from her half doze.

"Jim?" a hesitant voice asked. Marissa felt Jim tense beneath her and she immediately sat up. It wouldn't be the first time he was recognized out of uniform, but it was the first time that he'd been called Jim rather than Captain Kirk.

The tall, light brown haired man was standing off to their left, his hands pushed deeply into his pockets, his eyes downcast.

"Can I help you," Jim asked, sitting up, all of his muscles coiled.

The man glanced over at her and then focused back on Jim. "I was just… Are you…? You are Jim Kirk," the man finally managed to say.

"Yes," Jim replied slowly, still eyeing the man up and down. There was a strange tenseness to his face as he looked at the stranger. Marissa looked up at the man thinking that he looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't quite place him. Jim stood up, still watching the man who wouldn't meet his eyes and continued to stare at his feet. "Sam?" Jim finally asked in a low voice, as if unable to believe that he was actually asking.

The stranger looked up at the sound of his name and Marissa had to stop herself from gasping as she saw that he had the same blue, blue eyes that Jim had; the same eyes the two little boys had; the same eyes as Abby; Kirk eyes.

"Yeah, it's me. Sam," he said just as softly as Jim.

Marissa looked between the two men, two brothers, for a moment and then over at the woman from the bathroom. She stood watching them with a worried expression on her face. Standing, Marissa put one hand on the stroller while reaching out for Jim's hand with her other.

"Jim, I'm… I'll give you two some space," she said softly, glancing between the two men who continued to stare at each other not saying a word.

As if coming out of a trance, he finally looked down at her. "Yeah, okay. That would be… thanks," he finally told her, squeezing her hand. "Stay where I can see you."

"I'll just be over there," Marissa said with a nod towards the woman and three boys.

"My wife's name is Aurelan," Sam offered softly.

Marissa nodded in response. Pressing up on her toes, she gave Jim a soft kiss before turning to walk away.

"Hi," she said when she got within speaking distance of the woman. "Sam says you're Aurelan. I'm Marissa." She held out her hand and Aurelan shook it tentatively. "Nice to meet you."

"You too," Aurelan replied with a small smile.

Parking Abby's stroller next to the other one, Marissa sat down on the bench. After a moment Aurelan sat down next to her. Both women were watching their respective partners out of the corner of their eyes.

"So," Marissa began eventually. "How long have you and Sam been together?"

"Almost twelve years," Aurelan answered. "We met our first year of college. You and Jim?"

"About two years," Marissa said with a shrug. "We were both on the _Enterprise_ when everything happened."

Aurelan made a noncommittal reply. Sam and Jim were still standing, but they looked to be talking at least. Jim's arms were crossed and Sam still had his hands shoved in his pockets.

"He didn't want to approach him," Aurelan finally said, nodding towards Sam. "When I heard you in the bathroom and when I saw your little girl's eyes I thought… well, it was a long shot but everyone knows the _Enterprise_ is here and that means that Captain Kirk might be on planet. I tried to get Sam to contact him when we learned that the _Enterprise_ had docked, but he… well, he was too nervous and afraid. It's been so long and Jim's…" She shook her head sadly. "Sam is so proud of his little brother, but he also feels so guilty. He's the one that left and he never went back. Has Jim… has he ever said anything about Sam?"

"Not much," Marissa admitted. "We talked a bit about him when that book came out, but Jim doesn't really like talking about his past. Especially since everyone who meets him now seems to think they know all about him."

"I've never seen Sam so livid when he saw how Jim's life was torn apart and put on display," Aurelan admitted. "Sam's a pretty laidback kind of guy; happy to do his research and let the world spin around without him taking much notice, but… that book, it really opened up a lot of old wounds. And added onto the guilt he'd already been carrying around."

Marissa didn't know what to say. On the one hand Sam had left; he left his little brother, the one who adored him and looked up to him, behind to live in a nightmare with an abusive stepfather and an absentee mother. But on the other hand, he'd been only sixteen. How was a sixteen year-old supposed to take care of a twelve year old, even one as self sufficient as Jim, when he had nothing but the clothes on his back and whatever money he'd managed to scrounge up?

"I imagine it wasn't easy for him," Marissa finally offered.

"No, it wasn't," Aurelan continued, relieved that Marissa seemed to have some understanding. "I think a part of him has been hating himself for never going back for Jim; never contacting him. For a long time he just didn't have anything, and then by the time he was in college and finally making some money Jim was… old enough and I don't think Sam thought he'd want to hear from the brother that left him behind."

"I honestly don't know whether Jim would have wanted to hear from him or not," Marissa shrugged. "I like to think that no matter how stubborn he is, deep down he would have wanted to know that Sam was alright, but… Jim is pretty complicated."

"I can imagine," Aurelan smiled. "He's accomplished so much at such a young age. We had the boys watch his speech on the anniversary of the Battle of Vulcan. We didn't say anything about being related, but Peter asked of course. He's a clever one. Sam told him that Jim was his brother and that a long time ago he'd done something really stupid and he hoped that one day he could talk to Jim again and ask his forgiveness. Peter seemed to be able to tell that his father was upset and he didn't push it, but he's collected everything he can find about Captain Kirk and the _Enterprise_."

"I'm sure Jim would love that," Marissa smiled.

"How old is your little girl?" Aurelan asked, changing the topic.

"Thirteen months," Marissa answered. "And a right little terror now that she's mobile."

"I imagine it's a Kirk trait," Aurelan said, looking pointedly at her two older sons who were now devising a mini catapult out of sticks and a rock. "Sam and I are pretty relaxed people, but Peter and especially Alexander, came out guns blazing. The only time they're still is when they're asleep, and even then they can manage to get bruised and battered falling out of bed or kicking the wall. Sam always says they're like Jim. I don't know what Julius is going to be like. So far he just likes to eat and sleep. I can deal with that."

Marissa laughed. "Abby definitely keeps us busy. She likes to climb. Jim took away her lyre and hid it on a shelf and she managed to climb up to it. Scared me to death."

"Lyre?"

"Spock, Jim's first officer, gave it to her a couple of months ago," Marissa explained. "It's child sized. She loves music and Spock often plays for her. She loves it, but unfortunately it doesn't have a volume control."

"I see," Aurelan grinned. "I imagine that can be… trying… after a long day."

"Very much so," Marissa agreed. Really, for the most part Jim did his best to put up with Abby's playing; it just happened that one day after long negotiations with Denublubians he couldn't handle it any more. And it wasn't like he took it away to punish her. He had done his best to distract her with another toy, then a story, then some songs on his guitar. Abby had seemed content, but the minute his back was turned she'd climbed up the shelves to her precious lyre. "Personally, I think Spock did it on purpose to drive Jim crazy, but I'll never be able to prove it."

"So, you guys have the support of the crew?" Aurelan asked hesitantly.

"From the very beginning," Marissa nodded. "They're all very loyal to Jim and they dote on Abby. She's got lots of aunts and uncles. Oh…" she paused when she realized what she'd said. "I mean honorary aunts and uncles."

"It's okay," Aurelan waved her hand. "It's not like we've been around. Do you have any brothers and sisters? I'm an only child."

"Two half sisters and a half brother," Marissa told her, "but they're younger and back on earth. Jacob, the oldest, is thirteen years younger than me. My family hasn't seen Abby except in holopictures."

They quietly watched the boys for awhile before Aurelan spoke again. "Does Winona know? About Abby and you?" she asked slowly.

For a moment Marissa didn't know who Aurelan was referring to. "Who…? Oh, no. Not at all. Jim hasn't had any contact with her for over six or seven years now. And after her response to the book… I could care less what she thinks."

Aurelan nodded. "I thought so. She talks to Sam occasionally, but she never mentioned…" she shrugged uncomfortable. "Sam didn't talk to her for months after he heard about her 'no comment' answer. He thought she could have done something… said something… to defend Jim."

"He didn't expect anything," Marissa said sadly.

"Neither did Sam, really," Aurelan told her. "He just hoped…"

"Peter! Alex!" Sam called from over where he was standing with Jim.

They women watched as the boys sprinted over to be introduced to their uncle. Peter was practically bouncing as he shook Jim's hand. Alex was a bit more solemn, but managed a small smile. The boys chatted a bit with Jim and their dad and then they all started to make their way over to Aurelan and Marissa.

"So," Sam said as they arrived, the boys still surrounding Jim. "Jim, this is my wife, Aurelan."

"Hi," Jim smiled, holding out his hand.

"Hello Jim," Aurelan smiled, taking his hand and squeezing it. "I'm so happy to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too." Putting his arm around Marissa, he looked over at Sam and the boys. "Sam, boys, this is Marissa." Marissa shook Sam's hand and smiled at the boys.

"Can we call you Auntie Marissa like we can call Captain Kirk Uncle Jim?" Peter asked her.

Nonplussed, Marissa looked over at Jim who smiled and shrugged. "I guess," Marissa responded. "If you want to."

"Cool!" Peter pumped his fist. "Now we have an uncle and an aunt."

"Cool!" Alex mimicked his brother.

"And a cousin," Jim chimed in. At some point Abby had woken up, but she remained happily occupied with her sehlat. Picking her up, Jim introduced her to her cousins.

"A girl?" Peter said in disgust.

"Peter!" Aurelan scolded with a laugh.

"Yes, a girl," Jim smiled. "Her name is Abby. Abby this is Peter and Alex, your cousins."

"She's jus' a baby," Alex said. "She don' understand."

"She does too understand," Jim countered playfully.

The boys shrugged, obviously not really caring. "Can we go play?" Peter asked.

"Go ahead," Aurelan told them. "For a couple more minutes."

The boys happily ran towards the lake and their project. The adults watched them for a few minutes.

"Mariss," Jim finally said, putting him his arm around her waist again, "I think it's about time we head back. Sam and I thought we might meet up for breakfast tomorrow and then maybe go to a local park."

"That sounds nice," Marissa replied, smiling at Sam and Aurelan. After a bit more chit chat regarding times and location they said their goodbyes and made their way back towards the hotel.

"How are you doing?" Marissa asked when they'd walked for a few minutes.

"I'm…" Jim began hesitantly. "I'm fine. I think. I mean, it was good to see Sam. To see that he has a life – wife, kids, a job." He shook his head thoughtfully. "I know life goes on and all that, but part of me still remembers him as a scrawny sixteen year old."

"I'm surprised you recognized him after so long," Marissa commented. "The eyes are a giveaway, but… you two don't look that much alike."

Jim shrugged. "He looks more like mom – in the face and build, I guess. I look like my dad. Still, he's my brother. I guess sometimes you just know someone."

They walked a couple more streets in silence, Marissa pushing the empty stroller while Jim carried Abby. "Aurelan seemed nice," Marissa finally spoke. Jim made a noncommittal noise. "And the boys were thrilled to meet you. I guess Peter has a case of hero worship." That got Jim's full attention.

"I did notice that," Jim smiled lightly. "He asked if he could come see the _Enterprise_."

"Can he?" Marissa asked, looking up at Jim.

"I guess so," Jim finally responded. "I'd hate to disappoint a kid his age. I don't see why it would be a problem while we're docked here."

"And Sam?" Marissa prodded.

"Well, he's not going to let me take his son up into space alone, brother or no," Jim answered. "And… I guess I wouldn't mind showing Sam around either."

"You missed your brother," Marissa said softly, reaching over to pat his arm.

"I guess I did," Jim said slowly. "I just never realized how much until he was standing in front of me." He paused for a minute, his eyes forward, but not seeing anything in front of them. "I mean, he was… we were… he was my big brother. I looked up to him; wanted to be like him and he… he just left. And that really hurt, you know?"

Marissa nodded, squeezing Jim's arm again.

"But I can't blame him, not anymore," Jim continued. "Our home… it sucked, and Frank was constantly picking on Sam. He… he didn't start… getting physical until after Sam left, but it was bad enough. I wanted to leave. I can't blame Sam for having the balls to actually do it."

"Aurelan," Marissa began hesitantly, "she said that Sam felt really bad about that; leaving you behind. He just didn't know what to do."

"He said something like that," Jim admitted. "He was just a kid. I don't blame him. I don't think I ever really blamed him. I just… I don't _know_ him now. He's a stranger with a familiar face."

"That's what breakfast is for," Marissa told him, leaning her head briefly against his shoulder as they walked. "We'll start there."

"Yeah," Jim nodded as their hotel came into view. "We can start there."

xXX

Breakfast was a success. The children acted as ice breakers and Marissa and Aurelan hit it off well, comparing notes about childrearing and raising Kirks in particular. If Jim and Sam didn't speak much to each other, it wasn't too obvious. Peter was more than willing to pick up any lull in the conversation and quiz his new uncle about the _Enterprise_ and being a captain, and Jim always liked an enthusiastic audience.

Things became even more relaxed at the park where the boys insisted on playing with Jim. Sam joined in and soon they came up with some sort of freeze tag/Frisbee game that only Peter and Alex seemed to know the rules of. Abby trundled all over the field following her new cousins with glee. Alex was not thrilled to be the object of affection of a baby, but Peter took it all in stride.

Marissa and Aurelan chatted while baby Julius napped in his stroller. They had an impromptu picnic of hot dogs, fruit and chips from a nearby vendor, but by then all parties were tired and Alex and Abby were working their way to full out meltdowns after all the sugar and running around they had been doing. Jim and Sam made plans to meet up for beers in a couple days and Marissa and Aurelan exchanged comm. numbers. Only Peter was disappointed to be leaving; he was thoroughly enjoying having his hero uncle to play with and ask questions.

Having thought to bring a snugli, Jim strapped Abby to his chest, so that she could use him as a pillow and they began the walk back to the hotel. It really would have been quicker to use some sort of transport, but after being cooped up on a ship for so long, both Jim and Marissa enjoyed having a chance to stretch their legs even after a long morning of running around a park. And if they held hands and walked slowly in order to enjoy each other's company, it didn't matter to anyone. They were just another young couple with a baby.

_Please review_

_And thanks again to Royalpinkdogs for the beta'ing and encouragement. Trust me, the next story is getting written that much quicker with her lovely enthusiasm and inspiration. I owe her big!_


	14. Chapter 14 The O'Donnells

**First Impressions and Quality Time**

**Chapter 14 – The In-Laws**

"Matthew you are an ass," Rose said from her seat on the verandah. "He sent you tickets and made reservation for us in this lovely hotel and you hemmed and hawed and now we're late and they think we're not coming."

"Thank you, mother," Matthew replied, with a sigh. "I think we've been over this before. We're here now."

"Mother Rose," Nancy put a placating hand on her mother-in-law's arm, "Matthew's already apologized. It was a misunderstanding."

Rose snorted. "Misunderstanding, my ass," she declared, causing her two young granddaughters to giggle into their smoothies. "He just doesn't like the boy and was unwilling to see this as the peace offering that it was."

"It wasn't a peace offering, it was a bribe," her son declared hotly, his temper already strained. Three months ago he had received a communication from Jim Kirk letting him know that he had booked tickets on a shuttle for the whole family to Stratnon V, as well as reserved a suite for them. Marissa had won some sort of award and was being honored at a conference and Kirk believed that she would want her family present.

Matthew had been upset the moment he had read the letter. It was politely worded, but he refused to be condescended to by an upstart, twenty-something Starfleet captain who apparently had more of a reputation than good sense and who had taken advantage of his daughter and taken her away from her family and into the dangers of space. Never mind that Marissa had chosen to go into Starfleet years before she had actually met Kirk and never mind that she had actively pursued placement on a starship, Matthew still blamed Kirk and he wasn't about to take hand outs from the man.

If it wasn't for Nancy cleaning off his desk they wouldn't even be here now, but once she had seen the tickets and read the letter she'd had them packed and out the door even though they had missed their original departure date by two days. He'd groused about having to pay the extra fees to switch their tickets, but no one even bothered to listen to him.

"Bull," Rose countered. "He did it for Marissa. He knew that she would want us here and that we'd want to see her get her award and to see Abby – my _great_ granddaughter and your _granddaughter_ – so he sent us tickets. It was extremely nice of him."

Frowning, Matthew glared at his mother. "I could have bought tickets myself. He didn't have to condescend to send them to us like we're paupers who can't afford anything."

"Bah," Rose waved a hand in dismissal. "You're such a skinflint Matthew you would have come up with twenty reasons why we couldn't come. Yet here we are because Marissa's boy had the kindness to want Marissa to have her family around her when she receives her award. That says something about his character – and yours."

"The man took advantage of my daughter – _your_ granddaughter," he sneered, "and now he has the nerve to try to buy us off with shuttle tickets and a suite in a fancy hotel."

"Matthew, Rose…" Nancy tried to interrupt, but neither combatant was paying her any attention. She was amazed they had waited this long; tensions had been on high since they had left home for the shuttleport. It really only was a matter of time and better before they actually saw Marissa and Jim than in front of them. That wasn't the impression she wanted to make on Marissa's captain.

Looking over at the children who were listening with wide eyes, she nodded at Jacob and shooed them away. "Go look around the lobby," she told them. Without a peep, Jake stood up and took Maddy and Melanie away from the budding confrontation.

"He did no such thing and from the sound of it Marissa took advantage of him just as much as he did her," Rose countered. "They are both adults and they are taking responsibility for their actions. Marissa can't say enough about how good a daddy he is and how much he dotes on little Abby."

"Marissa's just star struck," Matthew grumbled. "Half the female population is fawning over him. He won't be around forever and then where will she be?"

"Give the boy some credit – and Marissa too, while you're at it," Rose said scornfully. "They're happy and they're working things out. What more do you want?"

Pacing, Matthew glared at his mother. "What do I want? I want my daughter to have a normal career on a goddamned planet, not wandering around in space where anything could happen. I didn't send her to Harvard so she could waste her life being tied to some man and his career, held back by a child she didn't even plan on."

"First of all, you didn't send her to Harvard, she did it herself," Rose said, a look of pride in her eyes. "You didn't pay a single penny for any of her education – she did it all on scholarship. Secondly, little Abigail might not have been planned, but she's wanted by both Marissa and her Captain, so you best pull your head out of your ass before you really mess things up between you and your daughter. She's made her choices and she's happy with them."

"She's made the wrong choices," Matthew mumbled, moving away from his mother and over to the balcony overlooking a small park and walkway.

"You're an ass," Rose repeated. "Lord love you, but don't you dare mess this up for the rest of us. We'll pretend you're back in elementary school – if you can't say something nice, don't say a damn thing, do you understand me, Matthew?"

"Yes, mother," he bit off, sounding like he was choking on his tongue. "Old age has made you a crotchety old woman, you know that?"

"Doesn't bother me a bit, son," Rose smiled beatifically, "just so you don't forget it."

Shaking her head at her mother-in-law in amused exasperation, Nancy went to stand next to her husband. She knew this was hard for him. Marissa had always been his little girl, but when she had finally started her own life when she decided to join Starfleet against his wishes, he just hadn't known how to deal with it. He was proud of Marissa, she knew that, and most of his anger was just his way of showing his concern for her future and her welfare, but that wasn't something that a twenty year old woman understood.

She had been shocked and worried when Marissa had finally told them about her pregnancy and who the father was, but after talking with Marissa over the comm. and seeing her letters and the pictures she sent home, Nancy could see that there was genuine affection between Marissa and her captain. It certainly wasn't what she would have wished for her step daughter, but she knew that Marissa was happy and she was willing to support her, even in the face of her husband's anger.

"Matthew," she said pleadingly, "you have to let this anger go. Marissa has made her decisions and right or wrong, they were hers to make. She's happy. You should be happy for her."

Matthew snorted in derision.

"Well, if you can't be happy," Nancy continued, "then you at least have to respect her decisions. She's a grown woman; has been for a long time now. She doesn't need your approval, and if you go into this with the attitude you have now you're just going to push her away. She's with Jim. He's her family now, so he's our family too."

Matthew didn't say anything at first, just reached out and took Nancy's hand, but it was enough for her. She was used to his outbursts. He was a man who liked to be in control of his surroundings and his family and ever since Marissa had gone off to school he'd been at a loss as to how to deal with her. It wasn't like Marissa outright rebelled against her father; she just lived her life as she saw fit and when Matthew threw up any objections she listened to him and then did what she thought best. Nancy was proud of her for that. As much as she loved her husband she was very much aware of his faults and while she tended to bend to his whims in order to keep the peace, she saw no reason why Marissa should have to.

"I just don't want to see her hurt," Matthew finally admitted, "and this Kirk could really hurt her and then she'd be alone with a baby and nothing else."

"She'll always have us," Nancy said reassuringly, "but she might not need us, she does have friends – and a budding career. She and Jim are working things out, it might not end. You don't read her letters, but I think she really loves him. And they have Abby to keep them together."

"But does he love her?" Matthew countered. "Is he capable of loving anyone with the past he's had? You have to admit he's damaged."

"He's been hurt," Nancy said softly, "but damaged? Not necessarily. And not everything in that book was true, you know that. It was just sensationalist trash."

"But still…" he began.

"No Matthew," Nancy interrupted, placing a finger over his lips. "He's Marissa's choice. Starfleet was Marissa's choice. You had better learn to accept that before things get too bad with Marissa and she cuts off all communication. I want to see my granddaughter. He didn't do all this to upset you, or insult you; he did it for Marissa and for me and Rose and the kids… and even you. So that we can see our granddaughter and Rose can see her great granddaughter. This conference is the perfect opportunity. They won't be near Earth for another three years at least, who knows if Rose will make it that long?"

"Right," he huffed sarcastically. "The old biddy will live forever."

He may have sounded angry, but Nancy could see the fondness and the worry when he glanced over at his aging mother.

"Jim was just doing something nice for Marissa by inviting us," Nancy continued. "And you will be nice to him. Promise me, Matthew."

He gave a put upon sigh, but eventually nodded. "I promise," he said, leaning in to kiss her forehead. "I'll be nice, but I'm not going to like him."

"Good enough," Nancy smiled. "And you never know," she nodded down towards the park. "Marissa and Jim could be as happy as that couple down by the fountain."

They both watched as a man in a black shirt with a baby carrier strapped to his chest twirled a young woman in blue, then waltzed her briefly around the fountain. It was too far away to see their expressions, but they looked happy as they held hands and continued walking, the woman's head resting against the man's arm. As they watched he placed a kiss to the top of her head.

"I doubt it," Matthew finally said as the couple disappeared, "but I guess one can hope. I don't imagine big starship captains wear those baby carriers like that; seems a bit demeaning."

"Oh Matthew," Nancy replied, shaking her head sadly. "Just keep your promise and be nice."

Marissa and Jim stepped into the hotel lobby with a shared sigh. The walk had been nice, but they were both tired after their long morning with Sam's family. And Jim's shoulders were starting to get sore from carrying Abby's twenty pounds strapped to his chest. She was small for her age, but after a few miles it really added up. She'd already been sleeping for about an hour, so if they were lucky they might be able to get her out of her snugli and into her bed for another hour or so – she had done a lot of running around after her cousins this morning, after all. Jim was looking forward to some time lying prone. It was amazing how much energy two little boys and a toddler could take out of you in the space of a few hours.

Unfortunately, any chance for resting was moot when they heard Marissa's name yelled across the lobby and the sound of pounding feet running their way. In seconds they were surrounded by Marissa's eleven year-old step brother Jake and her step sisters, Maddy and Melanie, who were seven and five.

"Jake! Maddy! Mel!" Marissa exclaimed, hugging each of her step siblings with a look of delight and confusion. "What are you doing here? When? How?" she stumbled over her questions looking at Jim to see if he had any idea what was going on.

Jim simply smiled and rocked back on his heels watching the reunion.

"Jacob, you've grown so much!" she declared, ruffling her step brother's hair who was as tall as she was now. "And Maddy your hair is so long. Melanie – what did you do to you teeth?"

"I lotht them," Melanie, the youngest, smiled with her two front teeth missing.

"Well you better find them," Marissa laughed. "What would dad say?"

The children all laughed, but Jake and Maddy were glancing at Jim obviously waiting for introductions.

"How did you guys get here?" Marissa asked again.

"By thuttle," Melanie replied, shrugging as if it was obvious.

"I know that, but when and… why?" she looked over at Jake for an explanation.

"Captain Kirk sent dad tickets because you won some award," Jake replied, his eyes slipping over to Jim again. "Dad didn't want to use the tickets, but mom found them, so we're here a couple days late. Dad and Nana Rose are arguing because Nana says dad's an ass for not accepting the tickets so mom sent us out here so we wouldn't hear them fight."

"Oh!" Marissa replied, looking over at Jim in shock. "Jim, did you…?"

"Guilty," he smiled wryly. "I thought you'd want your family to see you get your award. And they haven't seen Abby yet. And I thought…" he trailed off, blushing slightly at the four pairs of eyes that were staring at him with adoration and awe.

"You are too sweet, Jim Kirk," Marissa said, holding back a few tears as she leaned up to kiss him gently. "I don't know what to say."

"Is that Abby?" Maddy asked, bouncing excitedly on her toes. "Can we see her? Can I hold her? Will she call me Auntie Madeline?"

Marissa laughed, patting Maddy on the head. "Yes, this is Abby, but she's sleeping now. And she can call you whatever you like, but I think Madeline might be a bit much for her at the moment. We might be able to get her to say Maddy, though."

"What about me?" Melanie asked. "Can I be Auntie Mel? And Jake can be Uncle Jake, right?"

"Of course," Marissa replied. Looking around the lobby, Marissa tried to spot her parents. Then she caught the way Jake was watching Jim. "I'm being rude, aren't I? Jim, I know you've already heard all about them, but these are my brother and sisters: Jacob, Madeline and Melanie – otherwise known as Jake, Maddy and Mel, the terrible trio."

""Rissa!" the girls protested. Jake said nothing, just watched Jim from under his long bangs.

Jim smiled widely. "It's nice to meet you." He held out his hand and shook each of theirs.

"Captain," Jake nodded solemnly, though his face was bright red.

"I don't think we need to be so formal, Jake," Jim smiled. "You can call me Jim. Us men have to stick together when surrounded by so many females," he winked at the young boy and if possible Jake turned even redder.

"So, where are dad and Nancy?" Marissa finally asked.

"They're out there," Mel waved toward the open air verandah on the opposite side of the lobby.

"They're probably done fighting by now," Maddy chimed in. "It never lasts long. Nana just calls daddy an ass and he fusses until mom makes them stop."

"I see," Marissa replied, trying to hold back a smile at the matter of fact statement of her father's discontent. She looked over at Jim and smiled. "Do you know what you're in for?" she asked him with a grin.

"I honestly have no idea," Jim replied, taking her hand and squeezing it.

"Thank you," she whispered, pressing another kiss to his lips.

"Come on!" Mel protested, grabbing Marissa's hand a pulling. "No kissing. Yuck. Mom and Nana are waiting for you."

Marissa's entrance onto the verandah was heralded by the loud chattering of her two sisters who wanted to be the first to let everyone know that they had found her. That was followed by the enthusiastic squawking – Jim could think of no other word to describe it – of Marissa's step mother and grandmother, who vied with each other to hug and kiss her and declare that she looked amazing. Marissa smiled and blushed at all their attention.

Not yet ready to enter the fray, Jim stayed near the entryway, keeping himself and Abby in the shade. He smiled fondly as the two little girls happily circled the reuniting woman. Jake remained near him, and Jim had the distinct feeling that he had another fan, which was a good, if rather humbling, feeling.

He finally saw Marissa's dad on the other edge of the verandah. He was watching the women of his family with a small smile, patiently waiting his turn. It was only when his eyes scanned the area and he finally caught sight of Jim that his expression hardened and a frown appeared. Jim felt his stomach sink. He had been hoping that after some time the man would have at least warmed to the idea of Jim being in Marissa's life. He was the father of the man's grandchild, after all, but that didn't look to be the case.

"Dad," Marissa called out from the throng of females she was engulfed in.

"Hello Marissa," her father smiled, coming forward and giving her a hug. "It's good to see you."

Marissa accepted his hug and a kiss on the forehead with a smile. "I can't believe you are all here," she told them, looking around at all of them.

"Well, if it wasn't for your captain…" Nana Rose began, looking sideways at her son.

"Rose," Nancy interjected softly, always the peacemaker. "We didn't want to miss you receiving your award. We're so very proud of you," Nancy told her, hugging her once again. "And of course we wanted to see Abby." She smiled. "When is the ceremony?"

Marissa glanced at her father and then back at the expectant faces of her step mother and grandmother. "It was… uh, it was three days ago," she told them. "They do the awards first and then we sit on panels and boards and give talks for the rest of the conference. I can show you the award," she went on hastily, seeing the glares both women were giving her father. "Its nicely framed and everything. The banquet was really boring, actually. I have two more panels to sit on, I'm sure I can get you tickets for one of those. So you really didn't miss much; just dried out food and a bunch of boring speeches. I was only on stage for a minute or so…"

"Don't you be trying to make things easy on your father," Nana broke in, looking up at her. "We would have been here for that, boring speeches and bad food not withstanding, if he hadn't been…."

"Where's Abby – and Jim?" Nancy broke in, her voice and expression one of forced cheerfulness. "I can't wait to hold my grandchild."

"I'm the great grandmother here," Nana broke in, "I get first dibs on my great granddaughter. You get to wait your turn, missy," she smirked good naturedly at Nancy before looking expectantly at Marissa. "So, where are they girl?"

Looking over toward the doorway, Marissa smiled encouragingly at Jim, her eyes sparkling in mischief. He smiled back and walked over towards them, unsure if he really wanted to enter this fray, but knowing he had to.

"Nancy, dad, Nana," she looked over at her family, "this is Jim." Reaching out she took his hand and brought him next to her. "And this is Abby, though she's obviously sleeping. She had a busy day at the park," she said fondly. Abby's face was currently pressed against Jim's chest partially hidden by the snugli.

Jim smiled at the three adults staring at him, trying to look as relaxed and natural as possible. If Marissa's reassuring squeeze of his hand was anything to go by, he was failing miserably.

"Relax boy," Rose smiled up at him. "We don't bite. Well, not with our teeth, at least," she glanced over at her son. "Lean down here so I can welcome you properly," she demanded.

Not even thinking of protesting, Jim pressed one hand to the back of Abby's head to hold her steady and leaned down for Rose to place a kiss on his cheek. "You are a handsome man," she told him. "I thought they were faking all those holos, but your eyes really are that blue." She patted him gently on the cheek.

"Uh, thank you," Jim replied, not sure what else he could say. "It's nice to meet you finally."

"Don't mind her," Nancy said, stepping forward to take both of Jim's hands in hers. "Rose thinks just because she's old she can say anything she wants."

"It's true," Rose countered with a grin and a wink. "I can."

"It's good to finally meet you Jim," Nancy told him. Leaning up she pressed a kiss to his other cheek. "And thank you for the tickets," she whispered, "I'm sorry we're late."

"I'm just glad you're here," Jim told her with a sincere smile.

Nancy stepped away and they all looked over at Marissa's father who looked like he had just swallowed a lemon. After a glare from his wife he finally stuck out his hand. "Kirk," he said brusquely.

"Sir," Jim nodded politely, shaking the offered hand firmly.

There seemed to be a moment where everyone held their breath waiting for something to happen, but when it didn't they all began talking at the same time. Jim was a bit overwhelmed at all the chattering but soon realized that he didn't really have to say anything, just nod and smile as the women talked to – and over – each other in regards to their trip, Abby's apparent growth and Marissa's award and upcoming panels.

Not used to all the talking while she was sleeping, Abby eventually began to stir against his chest. Jim really wanted to make a break for it then, with the excuse of letting her sleep longer, but Nancy saw her moving and was immediately at his side peering in and cooing at her granddaughter.

They had learned over time that it was best to let Abby wake up on her own otherwise they were saddled with a cranky baby. It didn't look like they were going to be that lucky this afternoon.

"It usually takes her a while to wake up," Jim began cautiously, trying to move Abby away from the Nancy's prying face without being obvious. "She's a bit like Marissa in that way," he tried to joke. "Needs to wake up on her own so as not to be grouchy. We normally let her play in her crib for five to ten minutes before getting her out."

"Oh, I remember Marissa was a real grouch whenever she woke up," Nancy smiled up at him before continuing to coo and stare at Abby. "Hello darling. How are you? My, what big blue eyes you have."

Abby wasn't having any of that. She pressed her face into Jim's chest and he could feel the tension in her body as she began to work herself up into a fit.

"Maybe I should just…" Jim said, trying to move away from Nancy in order to get Abby to a more peaceful place to wake up.

"Nancy!" Rose barked, startling both Jim and Nancy. "Give the child some room. Can't you see Jim is trying to politely tell you to get away from Abby? If she's anything like Marissa she needs some time after she wakes to get into a good mood." She looked over at her granddaughter. "You were always a terror if we had to wake you up."

"I'm sorry," Jim said softly as he moved away from Nancy who was now blushing. "She just… she gets…."

"I understand, Jim," Nancy told him. "And I am sorry. I'm just so excited to see her. She's beautiful."

Jim smiled. "Yes, she is," he agreed as he went over to a quieter corner. Marissa looked over at him, her eyebrow raised, asking silently if he needed any help. He shook his head in response. He could handle this. And he honestly didn't mind escaping for a few minutes either.

It took a good fifteen minutes for Abby to wake up and become pleasant again. After about five minutes Jake snuck over to sit next to him. He didn't talk at first, just alternately watched his family and Jim with Abby.

"Do you like being a dad?" Jake finally asked when Jim was changing a particularly smelly diaper.

"Do I like it?" Jim repeated, glancing over at Jake and smiling at the look of distaste on his face. "Yeah, yeah I do. A lot. It's hard work. And it's not always easy. But I love being a dad. It's the best thing that has ever happened to me."

"Even better than becoming Captain of the _Enterprise_?" Jake questioned in surprise.

Jim smiled. "Even better than that," he nodded. "Getting the _Enterprise_… becoming a captain; that was all pretty amazing and I worked hard for it, but Abby… she's even more amazing. She's a part of me and a part of Marissa and totally her own person and watching her grow up has been… incredible. I won't always be the captain of the _Enterprise_, but I will always be Abby's dad."

Jake just stared at him, dumbfounded. "But being captain… you get to do such neat stuff – like visit new planets and talk with aliens and have space battles and go on away missions. That's so cool and neat!" 

"It is pretty neat," Jim agreed, finishing dressing Abby and grabbing for a snack out of the diaper bag. "And it's a big responsibility; to the Federation and to my crew. But it's not always fun and it can be pretty dangerous."

"And being a dad is always fun?" Jake looked at him skeptically.

"No, not always. It is a lot of work – changing diapers, cleaning up messes, not getting a lot of sleep," Jim admitted. "But I wouldn't change it for anything. Not even the _Enterprise_. I'm a pretty smart guy; I could do a lot of different things if I wasn't a captain, but Abby… I'm the only one who can be Abby's dad."

Jake seemed to ponder that for a long moment. "I still think the _Enterprise_ is cooler, but don't tell Marissa," he finally said.

"I won't," Jim grinned. "Captain's honor. And it is pretty damn cool. I'm taking my nephew's up to the ship in a couple of days. You can come with us if you want."

"Really?" Jake looked up at him as if he'd just offered him the moon. "I can?"

"Well, sure," Jim told him. "You're Marissa's brother and you're Abby's uncle. You should see where they live."

"Awesome," Jake looked off in the distance with glazed eyes and a quirky smile, but then it faded. "I don't think my dad will want me to go," he said sadly.

Jim let out a sigh. "Well he can come if he wants. My brother will be there too."

Jake sighed. "He doesn't like space. He griped the whole time we were on the shuttle. And he… well, he doesn't really…" he trailed off, blushing and not meeting Jim's eyes.

"He doesn't like me?" Jim finished for him with a wry smile.

"Well, yeah," Jake agreed sheepishly. "He's the only one, though," he went on abruptly, trying not to hurt Jim's feelings, "the rest of us like you just fine. It's just dad… because of Marissa and… stuff."

Jim put a comforting hand on Jakes shoulder, giving him a firm squeeze. "It's okay Jake. I kind of already know how your dad feels about me. It'll just take some time for him to get used to me, I guess."

"Not likely," Jake shook his head with a small laugh. "Dad's pretty stubborn. I don't know if he'll change his mind."

"Well, that's unfortunate," Jim said, "I guess we'll just have to live with it. I don't want him to hate me, but I'm also not here to win his approval. And as far as visiting the _Enterprise_ goes, we'll just have to get Marissa in on it. I'm sure she can convince your mom that it's a good idea and then they can talk your dad into it."

"Awesome! Thanks," Jake beamed at him. Glancing down, he looked over at Abby who gave him a gummy smile, showing off her teeth. "She is kind of cute. For a baby," he offered, reaching out for one of Abby's hands. She immediately grabbed his finger and stuck it in her mouth. "Yuck!" he said, pulling it away and rubbing it on his pants, which only caused her to giggle.

"She likes to put things in her mouth," Jim said with a smile. "It's a baby thing. We just have to make sure it's nothing dangerous that she can choke on or is poisonous."

"Well, she can't have my finger," Jakes said in disgust, still trying to rub off the baby germs.

"She chews on my fingers all the time," Jim told him, placing a knuckle in Abby's mouth that she began to enthusiastically gum. "It helps with her teething and keeps her quiet."

Jake made a disgusted face causing Jim to laugh.

"Dad says that he doubts you take care of Abby – I mean like day to day stuff; changing diapers and feeding her and stuff," Jake told him innocently. "Said you probably make Marissa do all that."

Jim felt his blood start to boil. The man really didn't have a very high opinion of him and that just wasn't fair. Still, for the sake of family peace, Jim did his best to remain neutral and not talk bad about his almost father-in-law. "Well, I do what I can," Jim told the boy. "When she was younger she was more dependant on Marissa for food, so I'd change diapers or walk with her when she wouldn't sleep. But now that she's older and she's eating solid food Marissa and I share duties. I like taking care of her. We have fun together, don't we Abby?" he looked down at his daughter and made a funny face that caused her to grin despite the finger in her mouth.

"Huh," was Jake's only comment, looking back over at his dad who was seated on a bench about five feet away from the still chattering women, listening but not participating in their conversation.

Jim let out a long sigh as he glanced down at Abby and then over at Jake. "It's time to face the music, I think. Ready to meet your grandmas Abby?" Standing, he hitched Abby onto his hip and nodded down at the diaper bag. "Can you hand me that Jake?"

"Naw, I got it," Jake replied happily. "Man its heavy. What do you have in here?"

"Everything Marissa thinks Abby might need?" Jim grinned.

"And the kitchen sink?" Jake questioned sarcastically.

"And the kitchen sink," Jim agreed.

_Please Review_


	15. Chapter 15 Ambassador Spock part 1

**First Impressions and Quality Time**

**Chapter 15 – Ambassador Spock part 1**

Jim carried a comatose Abby down the hallway to their suite, worn out in a way that he'd never really felt before. There was something totally exhausting about being with family all day, in a way that a full day of physical training and drills at the Academy never could achieve.

Their day had started with breakfast with Marissa's family in the dining room; rounds and rounds of questions from Jake and the girls had kept Jim occupied. Afterwards Marissa, her grandmother and step mother had returned to their suite to watch over Abby and eventually let her take her morning nap. Jim had taken Matthew and the kids to meet up with Sam and his kids at a local park. It had been nice, but tense. Luckily the kids were instant ice breakers and Jim concentrated more on entertaining and playing with them than currying favor with Marissa's father who was determined not to like him anyway. He and Sam hadn't spoken much, but it seemed enough just to be around each other.

After lunch with Sam and the boys they returned to the hotel, where Rand met up with them. Marissa had a Q&A panel at three in the afternoon, so Rand and Nancy were going to watch over the kids while the rest of them went to watch Marissa. Nancy was more than willing to watch over Abby, but the child was still uncomfortable with her and Rand was a constant in Abby's life. The two women would enjoy chatting since they both shared a love of shoes and shopping and Abby would feel comfortable with Rand there if she started getting cranky. Naps were especially short lately because there was so much excitement going on.

Marissa's panel had been a success, not that that surprised Jim at all. She knew her stuff and was brilliant. He couldn't help watching Rose and Matthew out of the corner of his eye and wasn't surprised to see the man puffing up like a rooster and Rose glowing with pride at how well Marissa handled herself and how impressed everyone seemed to be with her achievements. Jim was pretty damn proud of her himself.

But now the panel was over, dinner with Marissa's family and a few of his crew members – Bones, Spock, Uhura, and Rand – was over, and it was time to unwind. Abby was totally exhausted and had been extremely fussy by the time dessert had rolled around. Melanie and Maddy weren't far behind, and even Jake was nodding tiredly by the time everything was wrapped up. While Marissa was saying goodnight to her family and settling on plans for the following day when neither of them had any official commitments, Jim had escaped to put Abby to bed, hoping he might finally have some alone time with Marissa.

As he tried to juggle the diaper bag and not wake Abby as he opened the suite door, a calm voice said, "It is good to see you old friend."

Turning in shock, Jim was totally surprised to see Spock, the older Ambassador Spock, standing behind him. "Ambassador!" he stared, the door now forgotten.

"It has been a long time, but I did not expect to find you so burdened," the Vulcan nodded politely. "I see that your arms are full. May I be of assistance?" He looked pointedly at the card key in Jim's hand.

"Sure," Jim handed him the key, still staring open mouthed. "What are you doing here?"

The Vulcan almost cracked a smile, but instead just raised an eyebrow and looked solemnly at Jim. "Nothing urgent, I assure you, but would you not rather discuss this in your rooms so that you may put down the child? She appears to be in need of a bed." Inserting the card key correctly, the Ambassador waved Jim into his own hotel room.

Dropping the diaper bag on the couch, Jim stood awkwardly staring at Old Spock. "Well, uh, make yourself at home. I just need to put Abby down. It shouldn't take me too long." He waved toward the bar. "Make yourself a drink or…whatever. I'll be right back."

"I will be fine until you return, Jim," Spock told him standing in the middle of the living area, hands folded behind his back.

"Sure," Jim agreed before beating a hasty retreat.

Abby didn't even wake up as he changed her diaper and put her into her pajamas, which was a good thing because he didn't think he was up for a round of singing, not when Old Spock was in the living room. What was he doing here? The older Vulcan always freaked him out. He tried to block out all he had seen and felt from the mind meld on Delta Vega, but every now and then things filtered through. And one thing he knew for sure was that Ambassador Spock's Jim, the other Jim Kirk, did not have a child and definitely did not have someone like Marissa in his life.

With one last look at Abby, Jim gave a deep sigh and went to see what the ambassador wanted. Jim paused in the doorway for a moment to really examine the older Spock. He needed some time to prepare himself for the memories the older man elicited, but then realized the ambassador's excellent Vulcan hearing had given him away.

"Ambassador, please have a seat," he said politely as he waved towards the seating area before settling himself into one of the armchairs, immediately engulfed in the soft cushions.

Spock gracefully folded his long length onto the opposite seat, keeping his back straight with his hands resting on his knees and somehow not collapsing into the softness, while peering directly at Jim. His eyes did not so much bore into Jim's brain as connect to him, seeming to see him and more.

Disconcerted, but hoping to present the air of confidence he certainly didn't feel, Jim asked, "What brings you to Stratnon V, Ambassador?"

"The hope of seeing you, Jim, as well as some other reasons to do with the Colony," Spock replied honestly. "I admit that when I found that you were to be here also, I was most eager to accept this assignment from the Vulcan High Council. I am well aware of your success and accomplishments in a very short time and hoped to have a chance to speak on these and other subjects." He seemed to hesitate for a long moment, his eyes once again taking in Jim and giving him the impression that he was seeing more than Jim wanted him to.

"I wish to offer advice and perhaps a few warnings," he finally admitted. "However, I am in no way planning to subvert the Prime Directive as it applies to you; on the contrary, I hope to merely suggest several alternatives you might consider. But my advice may be unnecessary as your life has already taken turns that I had not expected."

"Alternatives like what?" Jim immediately asked; his curiosity piqued. Any information that could help his crew, or save them for that matter, was a good thing, as far as he was concerned. He really didn't like the older Vulcan messing with his personal life, but he was all for protecting his crew and ship. Still, there was an uneasy feeling in his stomach. How much information was too much? And how similar were their timelines?

If he was a human, Old Spock would have shrugged; as it was he simply cocked his head minutely to the side and continued to watch Jim closely. "If you should meet a certain person, or track a certain ship, or meet a certain foe, knowledge which I might be able to provide could prevent problems for you as a result."

After a moment's thought, Jim shook his head slowly. "Forgive me, Ambassador, but isn't that precisely what the Prime Directive is about? To change the natural course of things by your actions is to go against what Starfleet stands for." Jim knew himself well enough to know that he wouldn't be satisfied with a hint. He'd want all the details and would obsess about them until he knew everything. That would not necessarily be a good thing. Especially if the Ambassador's hints never came to pass, or were somehow altered.

"One might argue, Jim, that we have already done exactly that. Our meeting at this moment is the result of unwarranted changes in your past caused by me. Had I not acted as I did in the original universe, bringing Nero into this one, you would not be as you are today, nor would Starfleet be as it is today, nor would Vulcan have been destroyed, nor would you be a father. I, solipsistically, changed this universe."

"So you want to change it some more? You want to influence my decisions?" Jim was almost indignant. Who was Spock to change things? He had to remind himself that the older man was only trying to help his friend, but damn it, he wasn't the Jim this Spock used to know. "I need to think about this."

"I do not mean to…" Spock began, but stopped when the lock to the suite beeped and the door opened for Marissa.

Glancing briefly at Jim across the room, she smiled and then began to kick off her shoes and hang up her jacket. "Hey sweetie, I think tomorrow is going to be a pretty low key day," she told him, her back to the room. "Nana's pretty worn out from everything, though she won't admit it and I think the kids could all use…" she trailed off as she turned around and finally realized that they had a visitor. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you had a guest. I can…" she nodded toward the bedrooms.

"No, it's okay, Mariss," Jim stood up and gestured her to come forward. Spock too, stood and nodded politely as Marissa walked passed him to stand near Jim. "Marissa this is Sp… Ambassador Selek," Jim corrected himself quickly, flushing slightly as Marissa gave him a knowing glance; she'd caught his hesitation. He'd never spoken to her about Old Spock. It just wasn't something he was comfortable with. He still had occasional flashes of the other Jim Kirk that he had picked up from the mind meld that unsettled him, and he didn't like to talk about it. "Ambassador, Marissa O'Donnell, my partner and a member of my crew."

"Hello, Ambassador," Marissa smiled pleasantly. "It is nice to meet you."

"And you too, Ms. O'Donnell," Old Spock nodded calmly. Cocking his head, he looked at her more intently. "Are you perhaps the creator behind the O'Donnell-Killian database?" he asked.

"Yes I am," Marissa told him confidently.

"Fascinating," Old Spock spoke softly, though his word carried across the room. His gaze was focused on the table between them, but it was apparent that he was not seeing it; his gaze was far off and contemplative. Marissa looked at Jim questioningly, but he shrugged. "I do not mean to be rude," Old Spock finally said, coming back to himself, "but I do not remember you."

"At all?" Jim asked, that sinking feeling back in his stomach. Old Spock had sounded almost dismissive, as if not remembering Marissa was some kind of tragedy, or a sign of some kind, and that did not sit well with Jim at all.

"No, Jim," Old Spock said almost sadly.

"Well, that doesn't mean anything," Jim countered immediately. "Things changed. Just because you didn't know her, that doesn't mean anything." He was feeling suddenly defensive. He didn't like the feeling of disapproval that Old Spock seemed to be giving off, though his expression hadn't changed at all.

"Wait a minute," Marissa joined in, looking between Jim and Old Spock in confusion. "I just met you, why would you think you would remember me? No one really knows of me unless they're into history or have seen me speak here. I'm not Jim," she gave a brittle laugh, crossing her arms like she always did when she felt uncomfortable. "I'm not a galactic celebrity."

"I see," Old Spock nodded, looking pointedly at Jim. "Jim has not told you about me."

Marissa looked over at Jim and then back at Old Spock. "I guess not. Should he have?"

Jim glared at Old Spock. He didn't like the fact that while Marissa was looking politely curious, the glances she was giving him spoke of a vulnerability that she was trying to hide. He barely had any idea what Old Spock was getting at; she looked completely blindsided. It wasn't like he had purposely kept anything from her; he just hadn't spoken to her about Old Spock.

"I haven't spoken with many people about you and your circumstances," Jim countered. "The Admiralty and Vulcan High Council deemed it best to keep your… identity… secret at your discretion."

His words seemed to soothe Marissa; he wasn't keeping secrets from her, he just wasn't discussing things that were part of his job and not any of her business to begin with.

Old Spock nodded. "That is correct, but I had thought, as she is your partner you would have…"

"As his partner," Marissa interrupted, her voice pinched, obviously taking insult at Old Spock's insinuation, "I know that there are some things that Jim cannot and should not discuss with me."

"I meant no offense," Old Spock told Marissa politely, still watching her closely. "Perhaps I should introduce myself. I am Spock."

Marissa frowned, looking first at Jim and then back at Old Spock suspiciously.

"Bullshit," she finally said.

Old Spock said nothing, but his eyebrow rose abruptly.

Jim, trying not to grin, put a hand on Marissa's shoulder and gave her a reassuring squeeze, keeping it there for support. This was a lot for her to take in without any warning. Starfleet had kept a lot of very pertinent details under wraps. "No, really, Mariss," he told her, "he is Spock, just… from the future of another timeline. An alternate one."

Looking up at Jim in confusion, she shook her head. "Huh? You mean, like Nero?"

"Exactly like Nero," Old Spock interjected. "In fact, he and I were from the original reality. In an attempt to save Romulus in my own time, I created the black hole that brought Nero and myself to this time and started the chain of events that has brought us to now."

Marissa seemed to chew on this, her eyes focused distantly over Old Spock's shoulder. Both men watched her closely. "So, you were responsible for the black hole device?"

"Yes," Spock agreed.

"And you're the one responsible for the destruction of the _Kelvin_ by Nero," she stated blankly, glancing over at Jim before meeting Old Spock's eyes.

"Mariss…" Jim said softly, surprised at what she latched onto.

"No, Jim," Spock interrupted calmly. "She is correct. I created the black hole that brought Nero to this time and led to the destruction of the _Kelvin_ and the loss of George Kirk's life. That was not my intent, but that is what happened. That is where the timelines diverged and the original timeline became your alternate."

Jim seemed to tense up at Old Spock's choice of words, but Marissa was still focused on the old Vulcan, working through his words and looking for meaning.

"And you don't know me," she said after some more thought.

"I do not," Spock agreed. "In my timeline you were not a member of the _Enterprise's_ crew."

"Jim," Marissa glanced briefly over at him, her shoulders hunching slightly under his hand, "didn't know me," she stated flatly.

"Not that I am aware of," Old Spock told her.

"Wait a minute," Jim interrupted, not liking what was being said and assumed by the two other occupants in the room. "Just because this… our time… our reality is different than yours doesn't mean it's not… doesn't mean it's wrong."

"Indeed, I do not mean to say that," Old Spock replied, "but it is different than it would have been, had I not interfered."

"Fine," Jim snapped, running a hand through his hair and looking over at Marissa who had taken a step away from him, "But you're making it sound like now – this time – is wrong and it's not."

"Had I not interfered your father would be alive now," Spock pointed out. "Your life would be totally different. You would not be as you are now." Neither Jim nor Marissa missed the almost sympathetic look Old Spock gave Marissa at his statement.

"But it's not and my dad's not alive and this is how things are," Jim argued. He watched as Marissa perched on the couch, her hands wrapped around her stomach as she stared at the floor. He could guess what she was thinking. Old Spock seemed to think that his time was the right one and in that reality he and Marissa never met, which meant, in a twisted way, that they were never supposed to meet, at least by Old Spock's logic; what felt perfectly natural to them now was not supposed to have happened at all, and Jim just wasn't going to believe that. Marissa was supposed to be in his life, no matter what Old Spock believed.

"Who's to say that your reality is the right one? Hell, somewhere out there in Time," Jim waved his hand vaguely, "there is a Jim Kirk who's a fucking rapist." Marissa flinched at his words and Jim wanted to reach out to her, but she had curled herself away on the couch.

Spock watched them carefully. "You have met the Jim Kirk from the _ISS_ _Enterprise_?" he questioned, his eyebrow raised curiously.

"Unfortunately," Jim said ruefully, giving Marissa an apologetic look. "Who's to say his fucked up reality isn't the real one? Who are we to judge? Shit happened and here we are. This is our reality and it's not right or wrong, it just is. Some things are different and some things are the same," he shrugged. He spoke to Old Spock, but his words were for Marissa.

"But Jim," Marissa said softly, not looking up at him from the couch. "In the Ambassador's time, Vulcan exists, right?" she looked questioningly at Old Spock who nodded. "You and I don't know each other, but Vulcan isn't destroyed and eight billion Vulcans aren't gone. How can that not be the right timeline?"

"I'm not saying it isn't," Jim told her, softly. "But I'm not saying it is, either. It's one timeline that we wouldn't even know about if Spock wasn't here to tell us about it. This is our reality now and… it just is. There's no point in comparing the two. Sure, some things are the same, but probably just as many things are different, we just don't know it."

"Jim is correct," Old Spock broke in. "I am afraid I have been only looking at things from my own point of view. I did not mean to distress you."

"I'm fine," Marissa said absently, not looking at either man. "I'm just tired, I guess. I'm going to go check on Abby and… go to bed," she shrugged. It was obvious that her thoughts were elsewhere. "It was nice to meet you," she told Old Spock politely.

"I look forward to knowing you better," Old Spock nodded.

"Of course," she replied absently, as she made what Jim knew was a strategic retreat. It was obvious to him that she was feeling overwhelmed.

The look she gave Jim when she reached the small hallway to the bedrooms almost broke his heart, she looked so lost and out of her depth. He wanted to go to her and pull her into his arms, but not with Old Spock in the room. "I'll be there shortly," he said softly. She nodded and quickly left the room.

"I am sorry, Jim," Old Spock finally said after they heard a door close.

Jim let out a big sigh and sat down heavily. "Sure," he replied.

"I did not mean to question your relationship with Ms. O'Donnell," he said solemnly. "I was not expecting that you would have formed a relationship with someone this early in your life, though," he seemed to look off into the distance, "I had forgotten that you and Carol knew each other at this age and…"

"Who the fuck is Carol?" Jim asked angrily, his temper finally snapping. He shook his head, running his hands over his face. "You know what? Never mind. I don't want to know right now." He leaned forward and looked directly at Old Spock, his protective instincts flaring. "What I need you to understand is that I am not the Jim Kirk you used to know. I am not your 'old friend.' I can understand you wanting to believe that. It must suck being so old and outliving all your friends, but I'm not him, okay? My life is different. My dad wasn't in it, my mom barely was. I had a shitty childhood and I'm lucky Pike found me and dared me to improve my life."

Jim sighed again, sinking back into his chair and looking sadly at Old Spock, some of his anger draining away. "He may have been captain of the _Enterprise_ with you as his first officer. Bones and Uhura and Sulu and Chekov may have all been there, too, but I am not him. I am not your Jim Kirk. I have way too much baggage to be that man." Jim leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I got the impression that he had no one – no one but you and his crew and the _Enterprise_. I have Marissa and Abby. That's one hell of a difference and one I'm not about to let go of."

Old Spock nodded. His expression hadn't changed at all during Jim's tirade, but Jim had the distinct impression that the wheels were really spinning in Old Spock's mind. Maybe he was getting better at reading Vulcan faces after playing chess and annoying the younger Spock for almost two years now, but he wanted to believe that he was getting through to the older Vulcan.

"I'm not him and I'm not going to be him," Jim told him resolutely. "I'm sorry if that doesn't live up to your expectations, but I don't care. This is my life, not his, and Marissa is a part of it whether he had a woman in his life like her or not."

Old Spock stood. "I believe I should go," he said quietly. "I did not mean to come here and upset you." Jim nodded curtly. "You have given me much to think about. I thank you for that, Jim. If I may, I would like to call on you tomorrow. I would like to meet your daughter and make amends with Ms. O'Donnell."

Jim stood and followed Spock to the door. "Breakfast is usually around eight o'clock. I don't know what our plans are for the rest of the day, but we were planning to have breakfast here in the suite."

"Thank you," Old Spock said. "I will be here at eight."

"Yeah, see you then," Jim nodded. Old Spock nodded in return and then walked down the hallway.

Leaning against the door, Jim shut his eyes and took a deep breath. That was not the way he expected the evening to go. He had wanted to put Abby down, dim the lights, put on some soft music and spend some time with Marissa without any distractions. He really hadn't anticipated having an existential conversation to rival anything Hawking or T'Lar had proposed that put his and Marissa's relationship in doubt. Damn Spock and his timing.

Walking into the bedroom the lights were already off and Marissa was a lump under the covers, the top of her head barely showing, she had pulled up the blankets so high. She was so close to the edge she was practically falling off her side of the bed.

"I know you're not asleep yet," Jim said as he closed the door and walked around to his side. He sat down with his back to the headboard in the middle of the bed and he still wasn't even near touching her.

"I'm tired, Jim," Marissa finally said in a suspiciously thick voice.

"Yeah, me too," he agreed, "but I'm not going to let either of us sleep until we talk about this."

He saw rather than heard her sigh. "Just let it go," she whispered. "There's really nothing to discuss."

"If that were true, you wouldn't be hiding from me right now," Jim countered reasonably.

"I'm not hiding. I'm tired."

"Pull the other one," Jim replied wryly.

Marissa remained tense beside him, but eventually his continued silence got to her and she spun around. "Damn it, Jim!" she whispered fiercely, not wanting to wake up Abby, but obviously upset enough to risk it. "What the hell am I supposed to think? Some old guy comes here and says that this time, our reality or whatever you want to call it, was never supposed to happen; that it was a mistake. That you were never supposed to know me. That we were never…" she broke off on a sob and closed her eyes tightly, trying to reign in her emotions.

"He's wrong," Jim told her, sliding down on the bed and gathering her stiff body into his arms. "He's old and he's confused. And he's wrong." He squeezed her and placed a small kiss against the side of her head. "There's nothing to say that his reality is the 'original' one. That's from his point of view. Our reality is our reality and that's all there is to it. That other one, the one Spock remembers… that's his, not ours."

"But if he never… did what he did, then your father would be alive. Vulcan would still be here," Marissa protested weakly against his chest. "All those lives gone and I…I wouldn't change a thing," she whispered brokenly.

Jim felt his heart clench and then expand. "Neither would I," he told her. "Call me a selfish bastard, but I wouldn't change a thing either."

"Yeah, right," Marissa snorted. "If you were given the choice – you could have a… a girlfriend and a daughter or save an entire planet, you'd pick Vulcan. You'd have to; that's just who you are."

Jim sighed heavily. "If I was given the choice, yeah, I probably would have. Noble to a fault, that's me. Too self sacrificing for my own good, and all that other martyrdom crap Bones always yells at me, but I wasn't given a choice, Mariss. What happened, happened and I wouldn't change it." He placed his lips against her head and spoke softly. "I would die for you and Abby. I would die if it would save Vulcan or Earth or the _Enterprise_ or anyone I had to protect. But now that I have you, I'm not about to give you up. Not ever. And I thought you understood that."

Marissa shrugged. "It's hard," she said forlornly.

Tilting his head back, Jim collected his thoughts for a moment. "I first met Spock, Old Spock, on Delta Vega," he began quietly. "He saved me from this big, red bug-like monster that was planning to eat me for a snack. He knew me right away, said my name and everything, and then told me he was Spock. To which I said – bullshit," he smiled at the lurch of Marissa's shoulders as she let out a small laugh at their identical responses.

"He knew about Nero and how I needed to get back to the _Enterprise_," Jim continued, "so in order to save time he did a mind meld."

"He what?" Marissa declared indignantly, her head popping up and her expression angry. "And you let him?" she said incredulously.

"Yeah, I already got the lecture from Bones," he told her with a small smile, smoothing back her hair and grabbing a quick kiss before letting her head go back down to rest on his chest. "It seemed like a good idea at the time and he didn't really give me much of a choice." He wasn't sure, but he thought she mumbled some words that sounded suspiciously like 'idiot' and 'bastard.'

"The mind meld was a quick way to convey a lot of information, but," Jim shrugged, "I guess he was a little bit more emotionally compromised than he was letting on because some other things slipped in - some thoughts and feelings and… details about his life. He was really close to the other Jim and I picked up some of that. Not at first," Jim admitted, "but later, after everything was done, I'd get these flashbacks, only they weren't mine. And I'd have these dreams that seemed familiar, but weren't and eventually I realized that they were his memories.

"This was all before you and Abby," Jim continued after a short pause. "I thought I was going a little crazy, but Spock – our Spock – found out about his older self and when I started asking him some questions about mind melds he caught on and he… he helped me to separate everything. My memories, Spock's – Old Spock's – memories. But I still remember them."

"What was he like?" Marissa whispered. Jim didn't need to ask who she was talking about, after all she'd already met Old Spock.

"He was…" Jim paused to really think about it. "He was a good captain. His crew liked and respected him. Spock certainly did, and if you can get Spock on your side you're set. He was… ballsy and didn't always get along with authority figures."

"Doesn't seem so different," Marissa nudged him gently.

"Not at first glance," Jim admitted. "Nero called him a great man. I still have a ways to go. But, the one thing that really stood out was that he was… alone. He had his crew and his ship, but there was no one else and he… he died alone, doing his job, sure, but he was alone. There was no one there for him. No one special. Not like you and Abby. He was a driven and successful man, a great man, but in the end he died alone with only his friends to mourn him. And that, to me, just seems sad."

"Maybe he was okay with that," Marissa suggested. "Maybe it was enough for him."

"Maybe," Jim agreed, idly playing with Marissa's hand where it rested on his chest. "Maybe for him. But not for me. Because I know what it's like to come home to someone; to see your smile and Abby's eyes light up because I'm her daddy. I know what it's like to have a completely shitty day and have to drag my sorry ass back to our quarters and it's fine because you're here waiting for me. He didn't have that and I feel sorry for him. Maybe that life was good enough for him, but it's not for me."

They lay there in silence, Marissa slowly absorbing Jim's words and finding comfort in his arms. It always seemed to come down to this, Jim soothing her fears about their relationship. She knew she should trust him by now, but so many people – and now a whole alternate reality – seemed to be against their relationship, to doubt it.

It just didn't seem fair. After all this time together she still wondered how she had been lucky enough to capture the interest of a man like Jim Kirk; a man so obviously destined for the greatness that his counterpart had achieved. What if she and Abby were holding him back?

"I hope we're enough," she finally whispered.

"You are," Jim pulled her tightly against him. "Trust me, you most definitely are."

_Please review_

_PS - Thank you Royalpinkdogs! You say you are just a nuts and bolts person, but I know differently. This chapter (and I) owe you a huge debt. Thanks!_


	16. Chapter 16 Ambassador Spock 2

**First Impressions and Quality Time**

**Chapter 16 – Ambassador Spock part 2**

"Really Jim?" Marissa glared in exasperation at him across the table. "You couldn't've told me this last night?"

Jim just looked at her sheepishly as he buckled Abby into her seat and wrestled her bib on before setting the cereal and fruit onto her tray. "I didn't think it was a good time to bring it up?"

"Well, when exactly were you going to bring it up, then?" Marissa crossed her arms and looked at him sardonically. "When he was sitting at our breakfast table?"

"Hey!" Jim protested. "He's not here now is he? I'm giving you some warning, right? I just didn't want to you to worry about it all night, not after…"

A precise knock on the door interrupted Jim's words and he shrugged helplessly at Marissa's smirk. 

"Two minutes," she declared, throwing her hands up while walking towards the door. "You gave me two minute's warning. Thanks a lot."

Before he could say anything in response, Marissa had opened the door. Old Spock nodded respectfully, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Good morning, Ms. O'Donnell," he spoke. Cocking his head, he took in her bright eyes and flushed cheeks. "I take it Jim did not inform you of my intent to join you this morning."

"Oh no, no," Marissa responded in a cheerfully forced voice. "Jim gave me plenty of time. Please come in, Ambassador." She waved him into the room.

"Good morning, Jim," Old Spock nodded.

"Ambassador," Jim replied. "Have a seat." He nodded to the chair directly opposite Abby and to his left.

"What would you like for breakfast, Ambassador?" Marissa asked from in front of the replicator.

"Some plomeek soup would be satisfactory," Old Spock replied.

Within a minute they were all sitting at the table with their breakfasts in front of them; soup for Old Spock, oatmeal and fruit for Marissa, and bacon and eggs for Jim. No one seemed anxious to begin the conversation, so they ate quietly and watched as Abby mashed her banana into her tray and tried to feed herself cereal with her spoon. Most of it was getting into her mouth.

Pushing his bowl back, Spock finally broke the silence by clearing his throat. The sound, quiet though it was, caused Marissa to jump.

"I feel that I must apologize for the way our conversation proceeded last night," he stated, looking first to Marissa and then to Jim. "You were correct Jim, you are not the man that I knew, and it is wrong of me to put such a burden on you. While you look similar, aside from eye color, and have similar mannerisms, you have your own history and life."

Jim nodded, not sure what to say in response. 'Thank you,' just seemed wrong and 'about time' was just plain rude.

"Ms. O'Donnell," Spock turned his attention across the table. "I did not mean to signify that my reality was better or in any way superior to your own."

"But you did," Marissa countered, her voice cool. "You called your reality the 'original' and ours the 'alternate.'"

"I did," Old Spock agreed, "and I was wrong. Call it hubris on my part, but I have only been looking at things as they have pertained to myself and my friends; how my actions have changed things – and not always for the better. The majority of my time in this reality has been on New Vulcan. The guilt that I have forever damaged this time is always with me, though I try to hide it. I have only seen what I have destroyed with my actions. I have not seen what has been created. If you had never met me you would not even know that things could have been or were different at any time. This is your reality and it is as it should be."

Marissa glanced over at Abby and then back at Old Spock, her face red. "One child seems like an awfully small trade for Vulcan," she said quietly.

"But it is not just one child," Old Spock replied, "though perhaps Abby is the most important child to me. It is good to see Jim, even though he is not my Jim, happy in this way. My Jim never achieved such contentment. But, I am also speaking of all the other lives that have been changed… some for the better, I'm sure. I believe that there is an old earth saying, 'that which does not break you makes you stronger.' I must see past the destruction and look to the future."

"You've come a long way since last night," Jim finally said.

"In my long association with Humans, I have learned to assimilate much from their emotions. Often this process takes a good deal of time. Eventually I achieve an understanding of the true meaning of the emotions, but I am still learning. And I am out of practice," Old Spock replied with the small half-smile that was so rare on a Vulcan face. "I did not mean to insinuate that this time was wrong, or that your relationship to each other was wrong in any way."

Jim nodded again, not sure what to say. Marissa just stared at the old Vulcan with an eyebrow raised in obvious doubt before turning to her breakfast. Apparently she wasn't going to be won over by kind words.

"Miss Abby is a most precocious child," Old Spock said to Jim after receiving Marissa's brush off. "I have heard that she is gifted musically." The child in question was currently squishing her breakfast through fingers.

"Yes, well, at least we think she is. Who told you?" Jim asked.

"In speaking with Commander Spock yesterday, he remarked upon his interactions with your child, specifically playing the ka'athyra for her, and that she can recognize some tunes."

Looking over at Marissa, who was still focused on her breakfast, Jim nodded. "We hope that is true. It certainly seems to be. We just bought a piano for her."

"They make such items for children so young?" Old Spock questioned.

"They do," Jim nodded. "We were in a shop here recently, and she began to pick out the same tune that Spock taught her on the keyboard of a piano-like set that's designed for children, so we bought it."

Marissa chuckled wryly, grinning at Jim. "It may turn into a clothes rack or it may be the perfect thing for her."

"I am unfamiliar with children, for the most part, but she is quite well-mannered for one so young. Aside from her musical predilections, does she have other accomplishments?"

This comment got a full out snort from Marissa. "Ambassador," she told him, holding back a grin, "you have asked the wrong person that question. Jim can monopolize an entire evening singing the praises of his little girl!"

Jim huffed at Marissa's jibe, but agreed with the spirit of her comment, "Who wouldn't adore such an awesome little girl? I mean really, look at how neatly she mashed her banana into the tray, and then highlighted it with her soggy cereal. That's art!" As he spoke he began to clean her hands and face with a damp cloth, finding bits of cereal in her hair too. "Breakfast isn't just for eating, is it Abby?" he laughed, combing out a large clump of banana from behind her ear. "It's for self expression."

"As long as the self expression remains on her tray," Marissa added in, smiling as Abby tried to evade her father's hands.

Any further comments were cut off by the chiming of their door.

"Do'r!" Abby called out.

"I'll get it," Marissa said, standing and moving across the room.

The young ensign seemed extremely nonplussed to have Marissa standing in front of him. He blushed and did not quite manage to meet her eyes. "I'm looking for Captain Kirk, please, ma'am," he managed to get out once he cleared his throat.

"Of course," Marissa replied, trying to remain straight faced. "Today was supposed to be his day off. May I ask what this is regarding?"

"I… uh…" the poor boy stuttered. Seriously, he couldn't have been much older than Chekov. "I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to, uh…"

"It's okay, ensign," Marissa interrupted the boy. "I was just curious." Looking over her shoulder she caught Jim's eye. "It's for you." Stepping away from the doorway, she motioned the ensign inside.

"Captain Kirk!" the ensign sprang to attention as Jim crossed the living room, Abby in his arms.

"At ease, Ensign," Jim waved absently as he came up to stand by Marissa and handed Abby over. "Not really a formal morning," he looked down at his own casual jeans and shirt. "What can I do for you?"

"Admiral Pike would like a word, sir, at your earliest convenience," was the snapped off reply.

Jim's eyebrows rose curiously. "And he sent you? Why didn't he just comm.?"

"I, uh, volunteered, sir," the ensign stuttered, his face turning red.

"I see," Jim replied, managing to keep his 'captain's face' in place, something which Marissa was unable to do. So as not to embarrass the ensign by grining, she bent and put Abby down to go find something to play with.

"Do I need to change?" Jim held his arms out.

"No sir," the ensign continued to blush. "Admiral Pike just needs a few minutes of your time. He's actually in the spa doing his morning exercises, if you could just follow me."

"Lead on, MacDuff," Jim smiled jovially. "I am at the admiral's disposal, at least for a while. I have plans for the rest of the day."

"Of course, sir," the ensign replied, a confused look on his face. "And my name is Michaels, sir."

"Michaels, of course," Jim bit his lip. "You go on, I'll meet you at the elevator."

"Yes, sir," Ensign Michaels pivoted and exited their suite.

"Oh my god," Marissa giggled; her forehead against Jim's chest. "His name is _Michaels_."

Jim finally allowed himself to smile. "Cut the kid some slack, he was star struck."

"He certainly was," Marissa snorted.

Jim shook his head as she continued to laugh softly. "Look, I guess I'll be a bit. Can you…?" he nodded into the suite, obviously meaning Old Spock.

"We'll be fine," Marissa told him, her humor gone. "The kid said Pike only needed you for a few minutes."

"Yeah, well, you know Pike," Jim said wryly. "A few minutes can turn into a few hours if he gets going."

"Well just tell him he won't get any pool time with Abby if he makes you stay too long," Marissa countered. It was a legitimate threat. For the past couple days Pike and been enjoying swimming with Abby and the other children in the Kirk-O'Donnell party. He'd even taught Abby to jump in and hold her breath underwater.

Jim leaned in for a quick kiss. "Play nice with the Ambassador," Jim said, tapping her nose with a finger. "He needs to be in one piece when I get back, so don't hurt him."

"What?" Marissa went for a fake innocent look. "I always play nice."

"Sure you do," Jim replied, smacking her lightly on the behind, before turning and leaving.

Marissa watched him leave, then shut the door. She was surprised to find Old Spock standing near the couch watching Abby play with her guys.

"I am curious," he said, looking over at Marissa, "as to why Jim would think that you would hurt me."

Marissa cocked her head and looked at the older Vulcan and decided what the hell? "Because he knows me and he knows that sometime between last night and this morning I went from being… hurt by what you insinuated to being pissed," she told him honestly.

"I see," Old Spock nodded. "You are more like Jim than I first suspected."

"More worthy of him, you mean?" Marissa said bitterly, sitting down on the couch near Abby. "Have a seat Ambassador; it's going to be just you and me for awhile."

Old Spock sat, but didn't say anything. He continued to watch Abby as she played. He seemed lost in thought and Marissa was fine with that. She wasn't really ready to talk to him either. Last night she had been reeling sent by the revelation that he was from the future and had known Jim – or at least a version of Jim. As she took in his words and saw the way he looked at her, the idea that he thought that all of this – Marissa, Abby, Jim – was somehow wrong and not as it should be, dawned on her. He never said the words, but she got the distinct impression that he disapproved in some way. They should never have happened. That only fed into her not insignificant insecurities when it came to Jim and their relationship. To have someone, a Vulcan no less, tell you that you never should have met, never should have known each other, was a bit of a blow.

Add in the fact that if things had gone on like they had for Old Spock then Abby never would have been born and Vulcan never would have been destroyed. Jim's words had gone a long way to soothe her, but she still felt guilty knowing she would pick her child and Jim over eight billion Vulcans every time. What kind of person did that make her?

But sometime in the night she realized that she was never given that choice; life had simply happened, she met Jim, Abby was born and that's the way their life went. She didn't have anything to feel guilty about really, and what right did Old Spock have to question anything about her relationship with Jim? He didn't know her and he really didn't know Jim.

Of course, once she got on that train of thought she worked herself up into quite a fit. She wasn't surprised at all that Jim had recognized her anger at Old Spock. It wasn't like she had tried to hide it. And she was thankful that he didn't try to talk her out of it or play referee. This was something that she and Old Spock had to work out, or not.

"Starfleet is much different than I remember," Old Spock finally broke the silence. Marissa didn't say anything, just waited for him to continue. "There was a small xenohistory department that I recall at the Academy, but it was never a priority. This was curious to me. Last night was the first time that I really thought about how our times have developed so differently when the paradigm event only affected the eight hundred lives on the _Kelvin_."

"It wouldn't have been just those lives," Marissa pointed out. "The _Kelvin_ was a watershed moment, a lot of things changed because of it. It wasn't a territorial skirmish, it was an unprovoked attack. There were problems with the Romulans for years and years afterwards that resulted in the scaling up of our defenses and eventually our exploration efforts. Add in the romanticism of Jim's birth and his father's sacrifice… it was a pretty important event."

"Yes, it was," Spock agreed. "And one of those changes was the published works of a man named Norito Sandoval, I believe."

"He wasn't published in your time?" she asked curiously.

"Not that I am aware of," Old Spock told her. "Are you familiar with his work?"

"Very," Marissa nodded. "I have a collection of his works on a PADD and in book form back on the _Enterprise_. He postulated, several years after the _Kelvin_ and the ensuing difficulties with the Romulans, that if we had proper knowledge of how new races lived and thought - what their beliefs were and how they historically approached certain circumstances - we would be better able to avoid conflict and foster peace between the Federation and new civilizations. His ideas are the cornerstone of what I do on the _Enterprise_."

"I was unfamiliar with the scope of his work until last night," Old Spock continued. "I bring this up because knowing this I would postulate that in my time you did not enter Starfleet because Starfleet did not… share your interests, so to speak. That is why you were not a member of the _Enterprise's_ crew, possibly."

"That would make sense," Marissa said after she had thought about it for awhile. Sandoval was a huge influence for herself and the xenohistory department at Starfleet. "You didn't have any historical or cultural officers?" she asked curiously.

"No, not as you would perceive them," Old Spock told her. "As Science Officer I was responsible for gathering and correlating data about the planets and civilizations that we contacted, and a planet's culture was certainly part of that, but only on the periphery, not as a focus. And we had a library, but it was nothing like the ones now. Our library was for star charts and scientific research. Yours seems to have a much broader scope."

"I imagine that had to do with the work of Dr. Howlett, about ten or fifteen years ago," Marissa told him. "Have you heard of her?"

"I have not."

"She is, or was, I can't remember if she's still alive, an eminent psychologist whose work focused almost exclusively on life aboard space exploratory vessels," Marissa told him. "It basically came down to the fact that crews performed better and at a higher efficiency if they were allowed more of the comforts of home and a more earth-like atmosphere within their personal off duty time. So, we have libraries that are as capable as any scientific laboratories or universities across the universe, but that also cater to a crew's entertainment needs. When within range we receive weekly data packages of earth's and several other planets' entertainments – holo vids, television programs, new publications and such. We have entertainment committees that organize socials and sporting events that encourage crew cohesiveness and friendly competition. And eventually her work led to allowing families on board ships."

"Fascinating," Old Spock sat back. "It is amazing that one event can change so much. Families were only beginning to serve together long past the time I was on the _Enterprise_."

"Even a small pebble in a large pond causes waves, Ambassador," Marissa said with a shrug.

"Indeed it does," he agreed. "I began this train of thought in order to assure you that I did not intend to imply that your relationship with Jim was unexpected. My Jim never had a significant person in his life. He was dedicated to his ship and his crew." He held up a hand as Marissa opened her mouth to protest. "I do not mean to imply that this Jim, your Jim, is any less dedicated, only that my Jim did not have the chance to share his life. There was one woman," Old Spock hesitated, seeming sad. "They had different lives and priorities and were unable to merge them as you have done."

"He was in love with her?" Marissa asked softly, not really sure if she wanted to know.

"I do not know," Old Spock told her. "He never said as much in my presence, but when David died… " 

"David? Who's David?" Marissa interrupted.

Seeming to come back to himself, Old Spock shook his head slowly. "I am sorry. I have spoken out of turn. I have not thought of Carol or David in many, many years."

"Her name was Carol?" Marissa prodded, scanning her brain for anyone she might know by that name.

"Carol Marcus," Old Spock told her after some hesitation.

The name didn't sound familiar and Marissa was relieved. "And David…?"

"Was their son," he said after a long pause.

"Their son," she whispered. "Jim had a son."

"My Jim did," Old Spock reiterated. "I do not know all the details, but he and Carol were together for several years before Jim was assigned to the _USS_ _Farragut_. When Carol found out she was pregnant they decided that she would keep and raise the child on her own. Jim did not meet him until shortly before David's death."

"What?" Marissa stared at him in open mouthed shock. "He let her go? He let his child go? Jim would never do that. He's… family to him…" she shook her head in amazement. "No way in hell he'd let that happen."

Old Spock almost smiled again. "As you have both pointed out, your Jim is not my Jim. They are two different men with similar personalities, but different life experiences; experiences that have molded them in different ways, apparently."

"I guess so," Marissa said as she sat back and watched Abby. It was hard for her to believe that any Jim Kirk would not be involved with his own child. He was an amazing father. How could he… But then, she reminded herself, it was almost impossible to believe that a Jim Kirk could be a sadistic rapist, and she knew that there was one of those out there. Somewhere.

They were spared any further conversation by Jim's return to the suite. Abby was the first to notice him and she went running across the room to him. "Dada!" she yelled happily, jumping in to his arms and giggling as he swung her around.

"Did you miss me?"

She nodded her head vigorously.

"What have you been doing?"

"Payin' wif guyz," she told him, holding up one of her guys, a miniature Andorian wearing a doctor's uniform. "Zee?"

"I do see," Jim told her. "And what has mommy been doing?"

"Ta'kin' wif Uzzer Spa'," Abby said before wiggling down. Jim watched her curiously as she trundled back over to her guys. She had set them up in what Marissa called a tea party. There were no tea or cakes involved, but the toys were arranged in a specific way and Abby contentedly acted out whatever happened to take her fancy. Sometimes she did the talking for her guys, sometimes she was silent as she moved them around.

"Ms. O'Donnell and I were discussing the wide ranging affect an event such as Nero's destruction of the _Kelvin_ can have on the rest of the universe," Old Spock told him.

"Really? Interesting," Jim replied automatically, but from Marissa's small smile he knew that she realized he didn't see the significance.

"Did you know that the Ambassador has never heard of Norito Sandoval or Dr. Brita Howlett?"

"He hasn't?" Jim asked, trying to sound shocked, but failing. "And who are they again?"

Marissa shook her head at him in fond exasperation. "Just the founding father of Starfleet's current Xenohistory department and the psychologist responsible for getting Starfleet to allow families on board starships, as well as other amenities like entertainment packets and such."

"Huh. And you never heard of them?" Jim asked Old Spock curiously.

"Not until last night, Jim," Old Spock replied. "As I was telling Ms. O'Donnell, it is not surprising that she was not on the _Enterprise_, or even that she may have never entered Starfleet in my time, if Dr. Sandoval had not achieved the acknowledgement that he has received here, in your time."

Jim seemed to think about it. "Well, that is interesting."

"It is," Marissa smiled at him.

Jim looked back and forth between the two of them for a moment. "So you've worked out… whatever it was?" he asked.

"I believe we have come to an understanding," Old Spock said. "By talking with you both I have been encouraged to see this time and place as separate from my own memories. I have learned much from Ms. O'Donnell and I thank you for that," he nodded graciously.

"We're fine," Marissa shrugged, smiling at Jim. "And I'll even let him call me Marissa now."

"I am honored," Old Spock replied seriously, but there was a definite twinkle in his eye.

Jim stood up and placed a kiss on Marissa's head. "I'm glad. Now who's thirsty? Can I get you something, Ambassador?"

"Tea would be most pleasing," he replied.

"Mariss?"

"Tea."

"What about you, Abby Girl? Are you thirsty?"

Not even bothering to look up from her guys, Abby nodded enthusiastically. "Jus pease, Dada."

"Juice it is," Jim agreed, moving towards the replicator.

Once the drinks were passed around the adults sat quietly, watching Abby manipulate the little world she had created. Apparently it was a home, because her guys seemed to be alternating between, 'ni ni' and 'wunch.'

"She is a remarkable child," Old Spock finally broke the silence. "She is extremely focused for one so young. Are there many children aboard the _Enterprise_?"

"About fifteen, if you include the two pre-teens," Marissa replied. "We have a daycare center with two full time staff members and two part timers. And an elementary teacher for the older kids. The teens take online classes that are supervised by their parents and run through the Starfleet Junior Academy.

"I see, so there is specific space dedicated for the children as well as staff members."

"On deck five. And Scotty is always creating new 'spaces' for things we need by converting unused compartments. He is certainly a miracle worker," Jim laughed. "He created a hamster maze for the little ones a few months ago. They love it. It's going to be a sad, sad day when we need the pod back."

"Indeed. Mr. Scott was a very important member of our crew. I was not aware of his affinity for children, though. It seems life aboard your _Enterprise_ is pleasant if rather more casual than I knew. Dr. Howlett's influence, I imagine?" the Ambassador queried, his eyes locking on Marissa's.

"Yes, sir," she nodded. "I believe so. Did your _Enterprise_ have no entertainments? No place to relax during off hours?"

"We did," Old Spock did, "but nothing so broad as what you have. There was no entertainment committee, no data packets from earth. And our library was of a strictly scientific nature. Of course, when I joined Jim on the _Enterprise_ we were on a five year deep space mission well out on the fringes of Federation space. Any correspondence we received was weeks, if not months old."

"So you worked all the time?" Jim asked.

"We ran shifts similar to what you do now," Old Spock explained. "Crew members were encouraged to make use of the gym and there were several lounges where they could gather to play games and socialize. Jim and I often played chess during our off time. Uhura and others played music occasionally. But there was nothing so organized as what you have now. I think it is a great improvement. After being around humans I can see the benefit of keeping them occupied and entertained," he added with a definite twinkle in his eyes.

Jim and Marissa laughed. "We're like children. Can't let us get too bored or who knows what might happen next," Jim offered.

"Tell me," Old Spock turned to Marissa, "I am curious as to how your roll as a xenohistorian fits into the _Enterprise_ command hierarchy."

"Technically," Marissa began, "I am not a member of Jim's command team. I report directly to Spock and receive my assignments and information from him."

"Of course, given our relationship she tends to be a bit more in the know than others on the ship," Jim cut in with a wry smile. "But we do our best to remain as professional as possible."

"What do you do?" Old Spock asked.

"I…" Marissa paused. "I do whatever needs to be done. I collect data on planets that we will be visiting or are interested in visiting."

"That is what I did as a science officer."

"Well, I look beyond the sciences and details of the planet – atmosphere, temperature, minerals, flora and fauna – to the people and their possible responses to contact. If it is a new planet, I research other planets in the system or similar planets. Once contact has been made I delve into the planet's history and culture, their religions and governments, their way of life, in order to begin to understand how they think and how they might respond to specific situations.

"If it's a planet in the Federation or one that has been in contact with us for awhile, I do the same thing, but hopefully with the help of their historians and leaders," she continued enthusiastically, sitting forward in her seat as she spoke of her job. "The more we know about a culture, the better prepared we are to deal with them. Some of my colleagues spend years or their entire lifetime studying one planet or culture. I choose to study how cultures interact and how to improve on that interaction. That's where my database comes in. It is a way to measure and quantify a culture in regards to our own so that we may best reach out to them in ways that they will understand. In this way I hope to have more successful contacts rather than being turned away or causing hostility."

"That is interesting," Old Spock nodded thoughtfully. "I can see where you would be a great help to the science officer in regards to contact missions."

"She's being modest," Jim cut in. "_Enterprise_ has the highest turnover rate of contacts entering the first stages of membership into the Federation than any other ship in the fleet."

"Jim," Marissa protested. "Those numbers are skewed. We haven't had nearly as many contact missions as the other ships – we've only been out in the black for less than two years."

"True. But eighty percent of the worlds we've contacted have entered talks to join the Federation," Jim countered.

"Great, four out of five," Marissa shook her head wryly.

"And we got Cloral," Jim said smugly.

Old Spock's eyebrows rose. "You were able to convince the Queen of Cloral to enter into talks with the Federation?"

Marissa shrugged. "They needed us. They were suffering form the affects of a pandemic and…"

"I believe I am familiar with the situation," Old Spock told them. "In my time we sent an envoy, but after weeks of talks they were sent away."

"Who did they send?" Marissa asked, her professional instincts coming to the fore. "They are extremely matriarchal and…"

"We were aware of this," Old Spock told her, "and we sent a contingent of female officers and Ambassador Tekalli."

"Really?" Marissa asked in some consternation. "She's not who I would've picked."

"Marissa, you must understand, having Cloral enter the Federation was an accomplishment many at Starfleet wished to claim as their own."

"That's very egotistical," Marissa commented scornfully.

"Yes," Old Spock agreed. "Be that as it may, the Ambassador came to a stumbling block when it came to the signing of the treaty. Something occurred of which I am unaware and the petition was revoked by the Queen."

"What happened to them?" Jim asked, knowing it wasn't going to be good.

"They began hijacking ships and apparently raiding nearby planets for mates to sustain their population. They eventually angered the Nawtang Clan. They were taken over and absorbed. Cloral is now ruled by them."

Neither Jim nor Marissa said anything, they just looked at each other sadly. Jim wasn't exactly fond of the planet and their queen, but he never would want to see them subjugated to anyone, let alone the Nawtang Clan.

"Mama sad?" Abby came up and patted her mother on the knee sympathetically.

Marissa gave a small smile. "Just a little bit, baby girl, can I have a hug to make me feel better?"

"Uh huh," Abby nodded climbing up into her lap and give her a hug and wet kiss.

"I feel so much better now," Marissa grinned widely. Abby nodded, as if that was exactly what she had expected and settled down to play quietly in her mother's lap.

"She is a very perceptive child," Old Spock commented. "Spock had said as much, but I admit that since I am unfamiliar with children I was not prepared."

"Spa', Spa'?" Abby joined the conversation again, looking over at the door expectantly.

"Yes, baby, the Ambassador was talking about Spock," Marissa said. "But we won't see Spock and Nyota until after lunch today."

She looked between the door and Old Spock. "Uzzer Spa'?" she pointed at Old Spock sitting across from her, her Kirk baby blues locked on him curiously.

Jim smiled widely, finally understanding her previous statement when he'd returned from visiting Pike. "Yes, Abby, that's the other Spock."

"That is interesting," Old Spock finally said. "I do not believe that either of you have called me by that name in her presence."

Marissa shrugged. "I think I've only said ambassador."

"I try to stick with ambassador too," Jim agreed. "Less confusing."

While they were speaking, Abby had climbed off her mother's lap and trundled over to Old Spock, looking up at him curiously. Old Spock gazed back into her eyes, his own showing a crinkle at their corners and a slight upturn of his lips. "Truly a remarkable child."

Without any hesitation, Abby began to climb into Old Spock's lap. After only a second's hesitation, he helped her. She stood on his lap for a moment, her gaze focused on his face, taking in his hair and his ears. Reaching up she patted his cheek and smiled. "Uzzer Spa'," and sat back down contently.

Old Spock looked down at the top of her head. "I have observed in the past that human children are not always aware of an individual's personal space."

Jim waved a hand in dismissal. "She's been around Spock forever. She knows not to go for the ears or get too hands-y. Though she does like to mess with his hair sometimes when she thinks he's being too serious."

"Fascinating, I have never been…comfortable… around children. Even Vulcan ones."

Marissa watched for a moment as the old gentleman admired her baby, before asking, "Did you ever have children, Ambassador?"

"No, sadly, since I am, as is the Spock you know, a Vulcan- human hybrid, it was determined long ago that I would be unable to have children. Therefore, I never sought a wife or a bondmate." Abby started to sway on his lap and sing a Vulcan tune to her doll.

Marissa cocked her head curiously. "Our Spock has been told the opposite; that he and Nyota should be able to have children. It won't be easy, especially if the child inherits Spock's copper based blood, but with proper care things should be fine. I know that they both would like to have a child eventually, but now is not the right time for them." She smiled at Abby who was now leaning against Old Spock and cradling her doll. "Until then both of them are the best babysitters we could wish for."

She watched Old Spock as he watched Abby. "Perhaps, Ambassador, being here is a chance for you to start over; a chance to try something new."

Old Spock looked up at her. "I am afraid that there is much to do on the New Vulcan Colony. Much of my time is focused on it."

"But New Vulcan is in need of a new generation of little Vulcans, isn't it?" Marissa asked slyly.

"Marissa!" Jim laughed uncomfortably, fully aware that there was a definite green tinge to the Ambassador's cheeks.

"I have never given this much thought," the older man finally spoke, his hand absently running through Abby's curls. "It is not something I have ever considered."

"Well, I'm just saying, a little romance never hurt anyone," Marissa nodded. "It's become an important part of our Spock's life – and I like to think a positive one in Jim's. You should think about it. You're not as uncomfortable around children as you seem to think." She smiled fondly at Abby who had now dozed off, her face pressed against Old Spock's chest.

"I will meditate on this," Old Spock finally said, a bit nonplussed that Abby had decided to use him for a bed.

"I think you should," Marissa agreed. "If you are this comfortable with a child you just met, you would certainly enjoy your own. Nyota has commented that her Spock preferred a human woman, given that his mother was human. I assume your mother was as well?"

"Yes. My mother was a teacher, and lived a long and vibrant life. I am sorry for the death of the Amanda in this reality, and in such a traumatic way. Conversely, the Sarek here is far more agreeable a companion than my own, although very much like him in other ways. "

"Ambassador, I would be happy to introduce you to a few suitable women," Marissa smiled wickedly.

"Mariss….." Jim huffed, shaking his head in annoyed exasperation. "You cannot plan out the man's life for him."

Old Spock allowed the corners of his mouth to curve upwards, and his eyes slewed sideways toward Marissa as he quietly said, "I will let you know."

_Please review – I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter now that I'm rereading it. It's very long and … ugh. I guess it gives you some insight into my version of the Star Trek universe and how it differed after the Kelvin and how Marissa came to be in Jim's life. I hope it's all plausible and didn't bore anyone. ;-)_

_Again, many, many thanks to Royalpinkdogs who is responsible for a good part of the dialog in this chapter. I really couldn't've pulled this off without her. She makes Spock sound like Spock._


	17. Chapter 17 The Admirals

**Author's note: Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter, I've been sick. You might wonder as you're reading it: where is Abby? Isn't this story supposed to be about her? Well, yes, and she is mentioned it this chapter, but I'm mostly setting up plot points for my next story that I'm working on. Sorry. Still, I hope you enjoy this.**

**Author's note #2: Many thanks to Royalpinkdogs for her encouragement and beta skills and for explaining star dates and warp speed. I'm sure I didn't understand half of what she was telling me, but it was fascinating – to borrow a phrase from Spock. She's also written a couple cute outtakes from this 'verse. Be sure to check them out and give her some feedback. Not to be corny, but she is the wind beneath my wings. I don't know how I wrote without her!**

**First Impressions and Quality Time**

**Chapter 17 – The Admirals**

Marissa paced back and forth across the small hallway behind the auditorium stage. She could hear the muffled voices of the assembled officers and her stomach was getting tighter and tighter; the knot reaching Gordian proportions. She wasn't usually a nervous public speaker. She'd done her share of TAing and guest lecturing while at Starfleet waiting for the _Enterprise_ to be completed, but this was something different. Sure, she'd spoken as part of a panel earlier in the conference, but then she'd had the support of Aja and her colleagues, and she'd spoken in front of over 300 civilians – and her father – just days before, but this was major. This time she'd be defending her database in front of a panel of her superior officers – commodores, admirals and captains – as well as an audience of one hundred more officers.

She stopped her pacing and covered her face with her hands, bending over and breathing heavily. She couldn't do it. She was going to be sick. She felt like her stomach was rebelling and trying to escape the knot that it was tied up in. Her lungs were seizing and she couldn't draw in enough air. It might just be her hearing, which seemed to be fading in a weird way, but she was pretty sure she could hear small whimpers echoing in the empty hall. She couldn't do this.

Suddenly warm hands were holding hers, gently pulling them away from her face and forcing her to stand up. Then warm arms were pulling her into a tight embrace, the hands now running up and down her back soothingly. She felt the press of medals against her face and didn't care as she clung to Jim like a scared child.

"You'll do fine, Mariss," he said soothingly, his hands still moving rhythmically. She almost wanted to hit him because she could hear the smile in his voice, but that would mean moving out of his comforting embrace. "You've done this twice already and this time won't even be in front of your dad."

Eyes still closed tightly, Marissa snorted. "Yeah, great," she mumbled, "I'd gladly trade my dad for three admirals, at least three captains and two commodores as well as the Federation president's secretary." Just saying it made her stomach contents make a bid for the exit, but she managed to breathe deeply and swallow back down.

"Four admirals and it's not the president's secretary, it's his advisor," Jim corrected her; his smile all the more evident in his tone.

Pulling back slightly, Marissa glared up at him. "Jim, you are not helping. You are not helping at all," she protested before placing her head back under his chin.

Jim gave her a tight squeeze. "You'll be fine," he repeated. "You know your stuff forwards and backwards. You'll be more than fine, you'll be awesome, right Spock?" he placed a kiss on the top of her head.

Surprised, Marissa pulled away from Jim, embarrassed that she hadn't even realized that anyone else was in the hallway with them. She made a show of straightening her shirt while she tried to control her blush. It wasn't like Spock hadn't seen them hug before, but she didn't like the fact that her commanding officer was now seeing her as nervous as a little school girl giving her first book report and clinging to Jim like a limpet.

"The captain is correct," Spock replied solemnly. "Your engagements to date have been most satisfactory and I see no reason why this particular event should be any different."

"High praise from a Vulcan," Jim laughed, pulling her back into his arms.

"Jim," Marissa whispered, pushing against him, but not making a huge effort to escape his embrace.

"Only the best serve on the _Enterprise_," Jim told her arrogantly. "And you are the best."

"And you're biased," Marissa smiled lightly, though his confidence was beginning to rub off on her. "I appreciate your belief in me. Just keep talking. I might actually believe you eventually."

"Hey!" Jim protested. "It's not just me. Spock believes in you. And Aja. And all your professors and the other xenohistorians we've talked to."

"This is true," Spock offered. "Your work has garnered much support and interest over the course of this conference."

"Thank you, Spock."

"And you look totally hot in your dress uniform," Jim whispered in her ear.

Marissa just happened to be looking at Spock when Jim spoke and saw the Vulcan's eyebrows rise in surprise. "Jim," she warned, blushing fiercely again.

"What?" he looked at her innocently. "It's true." This time he pulled her in for a real kiss. "You're going to be awesome," he whispered against her lips. "Trust me."

Before she had time to even argue, Jim's lips were on hers and all other thoughts had flown away. She had no idea how he did it, but she wasn't going to protest. The knot in her stomach was slowly loosening as Jim continued to kiss her; nothing overtly passionate, but not chaste either. He pulled away after a moment and rested his forehead against hers. "Better?"

"Better," Marissa agreed, closing her eyes and breathing in Jim's scent.

"Lieutenant O'Donnell," a voice from behind them interrupted their moment causing Marissa to jump away from Jim in embarrassment. Without looking up, she began to straighten her uniform, cursing her fair skin as she felt the tell tale heat of another blush. "Excuse me, Captain," the woman cleared her throat, "but it's time for the discussion to begin. The lieutenant is needed on stage."

"Of course," Jim responded regally, not even looking the least bit flustered at being found kissing a member of his crew. Taking a step back, he bowed slightly, "Lieutenant," he winked at Marissa with a smile. "Good luck."

"Thank you, Captain," Marissa answered back, trying not to smile at the way the woman was trying to look uninterested in what she had just witnessed and was staring pointedly at the door behind Jim.

Marissa watched as Jim and Spock exited through the other door that led outside and to the auditorium seating, before taking a deep breath and steeling herself to face the panel of officers out on the stage. "I'm ready, Commander," she finally looked up at the woman standing beside her. "Let's get this over with."

Waving a hand towards the door, the woman ushered Marissa in front of her. "This way Lieutenant."

As soon as she stepped into the room, Marissa felt her heart plummet. When they said a panel of Starfleet officers, they meant a Panel of Starfleet Officers. The Commodores, Admirals, and Captains, as well as the president's aide were all sitting at tables facing the audience. Marissa was brought to a podium directly in front of them, her back to the audience of one hundred or so Starfleet officers who had been given permission to attend. She suddenly felt like she was on trial.

She had been expecting Admirals Barnett, Chronioal, and Pike, but Admiral Dekker was an unpleasant surprise. Along with Admiral Franks, Dekker had launched a subversive anti-Jim Kirk campaign for the first six months of Jim's captaincy. Only the fall out from the purported biography and their part in it had stopped all the overshadowing and questioning of everything the _Enterprise_ did. She was not looking forward to facing off against him. She could only hope that having Barnett and Pike on the panel would counterbalance his vehemence.

The two commodores on the panel were old, but very well respected and one of them, Commodore Bachelli, had a bachelor's degree in xenohistory. Her degree was from almost fifty years ago, but interest had to count for something. Marissa was unfamiliar with the captains, but that didn't bother her much. She needed to win over the commodores and the admirals. The captains might be able to voice their opinions, but they didn't make the policies.

The panel started well. Admiral Chronioal seemed to be the appointed spokesperson of the panel and he led the questioning with the others chiming in from time to time.

Marissa was first asked to give the panel a brief outline of the genesis of the database. Her explanation was detailed, but brief. After all, the database was already built and in use, the way it came about wasn't nearly as interesting as how it could be used, but one captain seemed to think differently.

"Excuse me, Ensign," Captain Nyola first interrupted her. "I mean Lieutenant. Forgive me, but your promotion has been so recent."

"Four and half months," Marissa replied politely with a half smile.

"Excuse me?" Nyola replied, looking somewhat confused.

"I was promoted four and a half months ago," she told him, knowing he was trying to throw her off.

"Of course," he nodded. "But you did the majority of your work as an ensign."

"That is the rank before Lieutenant," Marissa said, drawing a few chuckles from the crowd behind her. "I see no reason why my rank is of any importance. You can call me Doctor if it is easier for you. I've held that title for five months now." More laughter from the crowd and even Pike smirked a little. She honestly didn't see what her rank had to do with anything.

Nyola's eyes narrowed slightly, but he managed to smile graciously enough. "Fine, Lieutenant. I was wondering if any of your professors in college or at Starfleet had ever mentioned something similar to your database during lectures or during more… private…discussions."

This time it was Marissa's eyes that narrowed. She did not like the way he had emphasized the word private, giving it a double meaning. "Many things were discussed during lectures and more informal meetings, Captain," Marissa began. "I don't know if you have ever been around academia," some more snickers from the audience making Nyola frown at her, "but those who pursue advanced degrees tend to talk about their studies a lot. I'm sure we talked about all kinds of ideas in regards to studying and cataloging a planet's history and culture. Those types of discussion are what led to the genesis of the database that Ms. Killian and I constructed. No one lives in a vacuum, Captain. Most people, especially academics, thrive on discussion and analysis."

"Would you say you are…friends… with your former professors?" Nyola asked out of the blue.

"Yes," Marissa answered immediately.

"And did you have many private discussions with, say… Doctor Larkham?"

"Of course," Marissa replied, matter-of-factly, though inside she was beginning to seethe. "He was the advisor for my master's degree at Starfleet and was instrumental in helping establish my focus for my Ph.D. work, along with Dr. Greegan."

"I see," Nyola nodded. "So he's a close friend? Someone you've turned to for…support… in the past."

"He's a friend, as are Professor Greegan and Professor Burke and Professor Wilson," Marissa countered, not liking what Nyola was insinuating, but unable to come out and say anything specific. It was not well known outside of Starfleet academic circles, but Dr. Stephan Larkham had been accused on several occasions of sleeping with students. None of the accusations had been confirmed; two that Marissa knew of had been disgruntled students wanting better grades, but the rumors were still there. "They have all supported me in my studies and I am proud to call the friends and colleagues."

"Fair enough," Nyola said. "Have you ever heard of Norito Sandoval?"

"Of course," Marissa answered promptly.

"Captain," Admiral Pike interrupted. "Lieutenant O'Donnell's credentials are not on trial here. We're here to learn how her database might be used to the benefit of Starfleet. I don't care how the damn idea came about."

"Your pardon, Admiral," Nyola replied obsequiously, "but I'm just trying to show that the lieutenant has in the past… associated… with certain people who may have smoothed the way for her work and that that work may not be as original as everyone seems to think. As I was about to say, Dr. Sandoval proposed the idea of such a database over twenty years ago…"

"I am aware of Dr. Sandoval's work, Captain," Marissa interrupted trying to keep her anger in check and remain professional, "and I've never denied that his work has influenced my own. Yes, he did propose the idea of studying and classifying cultures as the sciences do. His work is the basis on which Starfleet's xenohisory department rests upon. And as with any idea, combined with the help and influence of our friends and colleagues, Aja Killian and I were able to build upon his theories. Were we the first to come up with the idea for a database? No. Were we the first people to attempt to build an all encompassing database? Probably not. But what we did, how we organized it and how we set the parameters and protocols were our own ideas built on our time in the field and knowledge of what we're studying."

"Yet, you have only been in the field, as you say," Nyola countered, "for less than two years."

"But I've been studying history since I was a young girl," Marissa pointed out, "and Ms. Killian has been studying it for over four decades. I make no excuses for my lack of experience. I think Aja would say that it was a benefit in some ways because I could look at things from a different, less jaded, perspective. And I was able to bring database building skills to the table that Aja didn't have."

"You chose to work with someone outside of Starfleet; someone from a planet that has barely become a member of the Federation? Why is that? Why not work with any number of your Starfleet colleagues?"

"Does it really matter?" Marissa shot back. "Ms. Killian and I met and it was obvious that we had the same interests as a well as a passion for studying other cultures. Many of my colleagues at Starfleet choose to study one particular culture or system, I chose to study how cultures interact. Aja Killian shares the same interests, so it seemed only natural that we would build the database together."

"But what…"

"Captain, I think that is enough," Commodore Bachelli interrupted. "As Admiral Pike pointed out, Lieutenant O'Donnell's credentials are not up for debate, and neither are Aja Killian's. Both are respected historians in their field and whether the idea for their database sprang from a light bulb in the minds, fully formed, or was based on the ideas and thoughts of the xenohistorians that came before, is not the point. We are here to discuss the database itself. Admiral Chlorioal, please continue."

Clearing his throat, Admiral Chlorioal looked down at his notes.

Marissa spent the next ten minutes explaining the details of the database; how data was collected and entered, how such data could be pulled and used to the advantage of an away team, how the database could be reorganized to pull out more pertinent information in a timely manner.

Captain Newton of the _Yorktown_, raised a finger as she finished her explanation.

"Yes, Captain?" Marissa acknowledged him.

"You were responsible for Cloral entering talks to join the Federation, were you not?"

"I was a member of the team that went down to Cloral and spoke with Queen Amidal'ai, yes," Marissa agreed.

"Was your database available at this time?" he asked.

"No, it wasn't. I'd had the idea since my undergraduate days at Harvard," she told him, "but had not had the time or opportunity to begin building it. Before we went down to Cloral I did the usual research in the library and read through the contact statements from the previous away teams."

"If your database had been around during the previous talks with Cloral, do you think that one of those contacts would have been successful?" he asked.

Marissa felt the brunt of over one hundred pairs of eyes on her, as she thought over the question. Even Commodore Thompson seemed to wake up a bit to listen to her answer.

"No," Marissa finally answered, not shocked to hear some surprised gasps behind her. "It would have been helpful in preparing the away team for contact with the Cloralans, but in the end it probably wouldn't have made a difference."

"And why not?" Nyola cut in, "If we're to invest time and personnel into this database of yours, shouldn't it show results?"

"Nothing is perfect, Captain," Marissa responded. "And Cloral is a special case. The database would have informed the away team that their society was matriarchal and about their political structure and religious beliefs, but at that time we didn't know the pertinent background information. The Cloralans are empaths. We are learning more now because they have opened talks with us, but in the end, that is what doomed the previous away teams; that, and the fact that Starfleet sent predominately male contact teams when female teams would have been better suited."

"Are you saying that we should have catered to the Cloralans cultural biases?" Nyola asked in surprised.

"If it will make them more comfortable, then yes," Marissa replied without hesitation. "It is no different than not offering to shake hands with a Vulcan, or not wearing clothing to a Betazed wedding. Every culture is different and we must be respectful of that. If the Cloralans are more comfortable dealing with females, especially at first, then we should send females. They are well aware of the way Federation works and how it is a male dominated culture compared to theirs, but we must also meet them halfway. If they are to join us they must be comfortable knowing that we will respect their beliefs and culture and not try to change them.

"But in the end," Marissa continued, cutting off what ever Nyola was going to say, "this is all moot. The previous away teams didn't even stand a chance because the Cloralan Queen read their minds and decided before even speaking with them that she wasn't going to listen to what they had to say. It was unfair, but that is what happened."

"So they listened to you because you were a woman?" Nyola asked.

"Yes," Marissa agreed. "That's what got us in the door. The Captain, on my recommendation, sent down a six person away team that consisted of only women."

"At your recommendation?"

"Yes."

"And does your… captain always do what you recommend?" Nyola asked, once again the sly insinuation was in his voice and Marissa didn't like it.

"If he and Mr. Spock agree, then, yes," Marissa told him honestly. "I am there to be an advisor and they do listen to what I have to say."

"I see," Nyola nodded as if her words proved something, though she wasn't sure what. "It's good to know you have the…ear of your captain."

There was an outburst of snickers and whispers behind her and Marissa felt her face start to turn red.

"Captain," Pike barked. "I think it's time to move on."

"Of course, Admiral," Nyola nodded, looking smug.

"Lieutenant O'Donnell," Admiral Chlorioal spoke quickly before anyone else could. "What role do you see xenohistorians taking on the ships that they are assigned?"

Marissa almost gave a sigh of relief; finally, a topic that she came her to discuss. "I see xenohistorians filling the role of advisor to the command team as necessary, and primary lead or advisor during first contact missions depending on several different factors including cultural biases and the possibility of antagonistic behavior."

"Advisor? Not a member of the command team?" Captain Nyola asked for clarification.

"Yes," Marissa agreed, doing her best not to roll her eyes. Would this man ever shut up? "As xenohistorians we can offer the Captain and his or her command team abundant support and information whether a mission is first contact or with an already established member of the Federation. There are always cultural miscellanies that an away team should be aware of. But I do not think it is necessary for them to be a member of the command team. There are other aspects of the day to day running of a ship that do not pertain to a xenohistorian as they would to a science officer, CMO, or chief engineer."

"I see," Nyola nodded, steepling his hands underneath his chin. "Wouldn't someone who can offer such an abundance of information to a captain be a part of all decision making?"

"Not if the decisions have to do with the safety or running of the ship," Marissa answered. "I see the role of xenohistorian as an advisory one, not a day to day one."

"And that is your role on the _Enterprise_?"

"Yes," Marissa nodded. "When we are scanning a new sector or planning contact with a planet I am available to consult with Captain Kirk and Commander Spock. I sit in on meetings regarding these types of events, but otherwise I am not involved in the day to day running of the _Enterprise_."

"Interesting" Nyola looked at her over his fingers and smirked. "And that is your _only_ roll on the _Enterprise_; one of an advisor?"

Marissa forced herself not to glare at Nyola for his veiled comments. Hadn't she just explained her role on the Enterprise? He obviously came here with an agenda that had nothing to do with her job and everything to do with her personally. She looked at the panel in confusion, hoping someone would help her out, but for the most part everyone was looking at her expectantly, though Pike was whispering furiously with Commodore Bachelli and Barnett was frowning at Nyola. Apparently she was on her own for now. The whispering behind her back was getting louder and Marissa could feel a bead of sweat drip between her shoulder blades. This was not the way this panel was supposed to go.

"I'm not sure I understand what you are asking, Captain," Marissa finally said politely, figuring it was better to feign confusion than to confront him outright. "I assist in the ship's library, gathering and collating data as needed, but my primary responsibility is to first contact and any research and development following. That is what I'm proposing for any xenohistorian that might come to serve on a ship."

"I think what Captain Nyola is referring to is that fact that you personally have the ear of your captain and that other xenohistorians might not have your… advantage," Admiral Dekker spoke up finally. "And that denying other xenohistorians such an influential position might be… harmful to the position you are proposing and beneficial to you individually."

There was an increase in the mumbling behind her and Marissa felt her face flush. "I report to Commander Spock," Marissa said succinctly. "I do not know to what advantage you are referring, Admiral."

"I'm referring to the fact that you are currently warming your captain's bed," Dekker said plainly, his eyes bright as he leaned forward and leered at her over his desk. "Doesn't that give you an unfair advantage over any other xenohistorian who might be assigned to another ship?" There was an explosion of noise and comments behind her and Marissa felt her ears begin to ring. "Haven't you been given more leeway because of your relationship with your captain? You say that xenohistorians should not be on the command team, yet don't you have as much, if not more, influence in the daily goings on of the _Enterprise_ as anyone on the command team itself."

Marissa stared at Dekker in shock as the murmuring behind her increased. How dare he bring her personal life into a professional discussion!

"Dekker," Pike began, obviously angry at the turn of events.

"No, Pike," Dekker interrupted, "this is a legitimate question. Commodore Thompson, do you have a problem with my line of questioning?"

"Not at the moment," the commodore responded, watching Marissa curiously.

"Lieutenant?" Dekker prodded.

"I do not see what my relationship with Captain Kirk has to do with my job," Marissa answered tightly, glaring at Dekker.

"So you do have a relationship with your captain?" Commodore Thompson asked, almost as if he was surprised.

"Yes," Marissa replied, honestly. She knew it was better to face this head on then to let rumors start to build. Honestly, anyone who read or even glanced at the gossip rags knew that Jim had a family after the interview he did last week, but apparently Admirals and Commodores weren't up on the latest gossip.

"Jim Kirk and I have thirteen month old child that we are raising together. I share his quarters - and his bed," she shot a narrow-eyed look over at Dekker, "but I resent the fact that our relationship in anyway impedes or aides my position on the _Enterprise_. We are professionals and we are Starfleet officers. Professionally we do whatever is best for the _Enterprise_ and the Federation with the input from the necessary officers of the ship. Personally, it's none of anyone's business what we do if it doesn't interfere with the ship and its personnel. I report to Commander Spock and am insulted that you would think I would use my relationship with Captain Kirk in anyway to further my position or my career or that I would tailor my recommendations to my personal benefit rather than to Starfleet's and the Federation's."

"So you honestly do not believe that a xenohistorian should be a member of a ship's command team?" Nyola needled, his tone saying he didn't believe her at all. "You're not just saying it because that would make your relationship with your captain a conflict of interest?"

Marissa felt her face turn even redder and then something clicked in her mind. She smiled, almost viciously. She knew who Nyola was now. "Let me clarify, Captain," Marissa said politely, if a bit stiffly. "You think that I am only proposing that any other xenohistorians not be members of the command teams of the ships they are assigned to because of my current relationship with Captain Kirk?"

"Correct," Nyola nodded.

"That is certainly not true. Not everyone is after power," she said pointedly looking at Nyola. "And not everyone is willing to use any and all personal connections to gain that power, Captain." She counted it a direct hit when Nyola flushed bright red and gaped at her like a landed fish. The snickers from the audience behind her only added to her confidence.

Turning her attention to the rest of the panel, she continued. "I believe a xenohistorian can make a major contribution to the ship they are assigned, but currently we are not equipped to be members of the command team. We do not take command training; we do not study ship protocols or emergency situations. We do not belong on the command team unless we can step in and at a moment's notice to take command of the ship and see to the crew's immediate safety.

"Now, if a xenohistorian were also a command track cadet with all the necessary training, then by all means, put them on the command team, but that must be on a case by case basis. Currently, we are not trained as such. Should this situation change, then I will change my recommendations, but right now I am thinking of what is best for the individual ships and the Federation as a whole."

"Well said," Commodore Bachelli commented. "Honestly Dekker, I don't see where you are going with this. If this is another attempt to undermine Captain Kirk using Captain Nyola as your mouthpiece, then I wish you would stop. Captains are not expected to be celibate. And Starfleet is a web of relationships; I believe Captain Nyola is your son-in-law, are you not, Captain?" she looked over at Nyola.

"Yes, Commodore," Nyola responded, now flushing red.

"And you would not expect your father-in-law to favor you over someone else, just because of your relationship to him, would you?"

"No sir," he said, ignoring the sound of smothered laughter from the audience.

"Well, that's settled," she nodded. "I must say, when I was captain there were plenty of romances aboard my ship, and I was not immune. As long as everything is above board, I see no reason to raise any unnecessary fuss. We all have needs after all – male, female or other – and it's our friends and partners who keep us sane out in the black. We can't do it alone and anyone who thinks we can is an idiot."

"Thank you, Commodore," Marissa nodded, trying not to smile at the constipated look on Dekker's face.

"But Commodore," Dekker began. "The fact remains…"

"Have there been any complaints aboard the _Enterprise_?" Bachelli interrupted.

"Uh, not that I am aware of, but…"

"Commander Spock?" Bachelli called out into the audience, "Are you here somewhere?"

Turning, Marissa watched Spock stand slowly at the top of the auditorium, tugging at his uniform as he nodded. Jim sat stonily next to him, glaring down at the stage. "I am here, Commodore."

"In your opinion, Commander, have there been any problems because of Captain Kirk's relationship with Lieutenant O'Donnell?"

"No Commodore," Spock replied. "Captain Kirk has been very forthcoming in his relationship with the lieutenant and as she reports directly to me there have been no instances of favoritism or neglect of duty."

"Thank you, Commander," Bachelli nodded in dismissal. Leaning forward she looked down the table at Dekker and Nyola, "Gentlemen, I think your line of questioning has been proven moot. What we've been brought here to discuss is a promising database and a new way of looking at contact missions that can only be a benefit to Starfleet, not the personal lives of one of our own captains. Does anyone else have any questions for Lieutenant O'Donnell regarding her database?"

She looked around and no one made a move. "Then I believe we've heard all we need to hear. I for one am in favor of getting xenohistorians onboard as many ships as possible as soon as possible. We need all the allies we can get and if more ships could have the turnover rate the _Enterprise_ has we'd be set. Dismissed," she announced to the room at large. "Lieutenant," she called over to Marissa, "if I may have a word?"

"Of course, Commodore," Marissa grabbed her notes and walked over to Bachelli's chair. They stood quietly as the room slowly emptied. Pike gave her a small smile and a nod of encouragement. Dekker ignored her and Nyola glared as he walked away. The others, including the president's advisor, made a point of coming over and shaking her hand.

"Captain, you might as well come down here, too," Bachelli called out to Jim who was still sitting at the top of the auditorium with Spock. "Men are such protective creatures," she said conspiratorially to Marissa. "Sweet, but unnecessary."

Jim and Spock joined them as the room was finally empty, positioning themselves behind and to either side of Marissa at parade rest.

"You handled yourself well, Lieutenant," Bachelli told her with a small nod. "Sorry you had to take it at all, but sometimes you have to give them enough rope to hang themselves by. I don't know what Dekker has against you, Captain," she looked over at Jim, "but I'd watch my back if I were you. Starfleet is a military operation, but politics is politics."

"I will, Commodore," Jim said, his eyes a steely blue and his mouth a firm line. He had obviously not enjoyed seeing Marissa questioned. "Thank you."

"So," Bachelli smiled cheerfully, easily dismissing the panel and everything that had just happened, "you have a thirteen month old?" Marissa nodded. "Boy or girl."

"Girl," Marissa replied with a smile of her own. "Abigail Rose Kirk."

"Rather amazing that you managed to keep her a secret," Bachelli said. She held up a hand before Jim or Marissa could say anything. "A very wise idea. After all the hoopla surrounding Captain Kirk here, a baby would have made it a circus, and no young family deserves that."

"We agree," Jim nodded.

"So, you have a thirteen month old and you managed to write a ground breaking dissertation," the commodore looked at Marissa in admiration. "That's mighty impressive. You must have been exhausted."

"Pretty much," Marissa smiled, "but I had plenty of help."

"Hands on, are you Captain?" Bachelli smiled up at Jim.

"As much as I can be," Jim agreed. "It was a bit harder when she was younger, but now I get a lot more play time."

"Good man," Bachelli told him. "My husband, bless him, was very involved with the kids. We had a second one just so I had one to take care of. Our daughter was a daddy's girl from day one, so we had a son for me. He was my chief engineer," she said in a seemingly non sequitor, "my husband, I mean, not my son, though he went on to be one aboard the _Vader_. Lost him over Vulcan."

"I'm so sorry," Marissa said, reaching out automatically to squeeze the other woman's hand, not as a subordinate officer, but as a mother to another mother.

The commodore shook herself physically, her eyes sad when she looked up at Marissa. "It's a horrible thing to lose a child, even one that's an adult and had children of his own. I hope you never have to experience it. A parent should never outlive their children." The older woman seemed to fade out for a moment, her eyes focused on something only she could see before she visibly shook herself. "Oh, here I am being all melancholy and depressing and you two just starting out together, my Dennis would laugh at me," she chuckled, squeezing Marissa's hand and doing her best to smile up at Jim.

"Blaze a trail, Captain," she told him, "and let your family be your strength. It's what got me through. At least nowadays you can take your family with you, wasn't always like that. Enjoy it. Both of you."

"We will," Jim and Marissa agreed.

"And keep them in line, Mr. Spock," Bachelli added as she stood up. "We'll have no talk of unprofessionalism aboard our flagship. None at all."

"Yes, sir," Spock nodded.

_Please review_

_This is the end of First Impressions and Quality Time for a while. I might have a few chapters to post after my next fic, but we'll just have to wait and see. I am currently working on _Complications_… my next Jim and Marissa story with a plot and everything. I want to get a good chunk of it written before I start posting, so look for it in a few weeks. Until then – thanks for reading and reviewing. It really means a lot to me. - RA_


	18. Chapter 18 Winona

**First Impressions and Quality Time**

**Chapter 18 - Winona**

The doorbell rang again as Marissa made her way from the chaos of the birthday girl's room down the hall and into the living room.

"Traitor!" Jim called after her. This was quickly followed by an "umf" as apparently Shea decided to pounce from the top bunk onto his father.

"Shea!" Jim scolded, "I told you, you have to give me a warning first. No jumping without permission. Got it?"

"Sowry daddy," their youngest replied innocently. Marissa had to stifle a laugh when his reply was followed by a war whoop from Abby, a thud and hysterical giggles.

"DING DONG."

"I'm coming," Marissa muttered. "Sheesh, so impatient."

Opening the door she smiled automatically. "Len did you forget your…" she trailed off, her smile fading. Their impatient visitor wasn't Leonard McCoy.

Standing stiffly on their front porch was a stern older woman, with graying blonde hair and serious frown lines. She was wearing a casual pair of blue slacks and a white blouse, but everything about her screamed career Starfleet.

"Can I help you?" Marissa asked, instantly wary. They'd been back on Earth for months now, but they were still being occasionally bothered by reporters wanting interviews and paparazzi wanting a good story.

Their current residence was in what was nicknamed The Ghost Town – homes that belonged to Starfleet officials that were often off planet. No one but the residents and their close friends and family were supposed to have entry codes into the gated neighborhood.

"I'm here to see Captain Kirk," the woman said, her frown deepening.

She must have been a pretty woman at one time, Marissa thought as she looked over their unwanted visitor, but now she just seemed bitter.

"He's occupied at the moment," Marissa told her politely. "If you could please contact his office, his yeoman can make an appointment for you for some time next week."

"I don't want to make an appointment," the woman told her briskly.

"I'm sorry," Marissa said, though it was a lie, "but that's the way it works. Jim doesn't meet people or do interviews without an appointment and certainly not in our home."

The woman looked like she was about to protest, but then stopped at Marissa's words, her eyes sweeping up and down her body. Marissa did her best not to become flustered. At five months pregnant she was beginning to feel fat.

"Who are you?" the woman finally asked.

Marissa felt her irritation rise as the woman looked at her contemplatively, looking as if she didn't like what she saw at all.

"Haven't done your research, have you?" Marissa commented sardonically, keeping her body in the doorway in case the woman became pushy. "Most people who want to see Jim at least know that he has a wife."

"He's not married," the woman said automatically, her expression one of complete shock.

"Uh, yes he is," Marissa told her, resisting the urge to flash her wedding ring at her.

The woman looked her over once again, her disdain now obvious in the slight sneer on her face as she took in Marissa's pregnant belly. "I suppose that's one way to catch him," the woman commented dryly.

"Excuse me?" Marissa glared at her incredulously. She was used to people being surprised by her relationship with Jim, but not lately. The cat had been out of the bag, so to speak, for years now.

"Look, make an appointment," she said briskly, moving to close the door. "Jim doesn't see people at home." Marissa was surprised when the woman actually put out a hand to stop her from closing the door.

"He'll see me," the woman retorted. "I'm his mother."

"Jesus," Marissa whispered in shock, staring at the woman. "You've got some nerve."

Now it was the woman's turn to say, "Excuse me?"

"Look," Marissa sighed, glancing nervously behind her, "tonight is not a good night. Make an appointment or come back tomorrow; whatever you want, but just go now. We…"

Marissa was cut off by a loud screech followed by the padding of bare feet and giggles.

"Get back here you two," Jim's voice called out from the back of the house.

"Run, Shea, run!" Abby called out, her feet echoing through the living area now.

Jim gave a roar. "I'm gonna getcha! Birthday girls have to be dressed to get their presents. Ow! Shea," Jim finished with a yelp.

"Wun Abby!" a small voice yelled.

"Someone's here," Abby called out, her footsteps veering from their course across the living room towards the open door and her mother. "Uncle Bwones!"

"Yeah!" Shea squealed.

"Oh no you don't," Jim declared, apparently grabbing the little boy if his giggles were anything to go by. "The big mean dada has you!"

"Help! Help! Abbbbeeeee!" Shea called out to his sister and then giggled uncontrollably when Jim blew a raspberry somewhere on his body.

Abby wasn't paying any attention to her brother. "Uncle Bwones! Whadja bring me?"

"Abigail, manners," Marissa scolded automatically as the partially clad little girl wedged in front of her to stare at the woman at the door.

"Who're you?" Abby demanded, obviously disappointed that she wasn't McCoy. She stared at the stranger with her hands on her hips and her face in a familiar frown.

"Abby!"

"My name is Winona," Jim's mother managed to choke out, looking dazedly between Abby and Marissa. With her wavy brown hair and pixie face Abby looked like a miniature Marissa, but her eyes were all Jim.

"Unca Bwones," Shea howled, "help! Dada's got me!"

"And I'm not letting you go," Jim cackled maniacally. The sound of another raspberry and more giggles echoed through the room again.

"Is not Uncle Bwones," Abby called back. "Itsa lady."

Jim's footsteps moved towards the door and Marissa let out a deep sigh, glaring balefully at Winona.

"Who is it Mariss?" Jim asked.

Turning she saw Jim holding Shea, dressed only in his big boy diaper, upside down from his ankles. Normally this would have made her smile fondly, but instead she sighed again; shaking her head ruefully at Jim as if to say sorry, she fully opened the door.

At first Jim just stared, Shea forgotten in his grip until he started squealing and twisting. Still staring at his mother, Jim quickly righted the child and held him in his arms.

"Hi mom," he said finally.

Abby looked between her father and the woman. "Nuh huh," she declared. "Tha's not your mom."

"It's not?" Jim asked, still staring, but his lips twitched at Abby's knowing tone.

"No," Abby shook her head wildly. "You don' have a mom."

"Really?" Jim asked glancing down at his daughter with a bemused smile. "How do you figure?"

"I's not seen her," the child said logically.

"Well, you're seeing her now," Jim replied with a nod that was more for his mother's sake than Abby's. "That is my mother – Winona."

Abby and Shea looked at Winona speculatively. "Where have you been?" Abby finally asked, her hands back on her hips, looking even more like her mother. "How come you never visited us? Or sent us presents? Or commed us?"

"Abigail, don't be rude," Marissa told her with a stern look. "Why don't you go get dressed? Everyone will be here soon." Abby started to protest but Marissa gave her a look and she closed her mouth. "Good girl," Marissa smiled. "Can you help your brother, please? You want to look nice for everyone, right?"

"Okay," Abby replied with a long suffering sigh and a last look at Winona. "Come on, Shea."

The three adults stood awkwardly while avoiding looking at each other as the children scampered away, Abby saying something quietly to her brother as they both glanced back to the entryway.

"Well, I guess you should come in," Marissa finally said, opening the door wider.

"Mom, what are you doing here?" Jim finally asked as the door closed. Neither he nor Marissa moved toward the living room or offered Winona a seat. "Now is really not a good time."

"That's what she said," Winona nodded over at Marissa. "Can't a mother visit her son?"

"Not after almost ten years of silence," Marissa said, crossing her arms and glaring in a manner very similar to her daughter.

"Marissa," Jim softly warned, putting his arm around her waist and holding her close.

"You're exaggerating," Winona countered. "It hasn't been that long."

Marissa opened her mouth to protest but Jim gave her a squeeze and she closed her mouth with an audible click of teeth.

"I was almost twenty-one, mom," Jim told her.

"And I bailed you out of jail," Winona said, her voice polite, but cool.

"And apparently washed your hands of me," Jim nodded. "That's the last time we talked; just over ten years ago."

"I've been off planet," Winona had the grace to look at least a little embarrassed.

Jim shook his head, his eyes closed, like he really didn't want to look at her. "Look, this isn't a good time. Today's Abby's birthday and everyone is coming and it would be…" he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders helplessly.

"Really damn awkward," Marissa chimed in, still glaring at Winona.

"How old is she?" Winona asked, ignoring Marissa.

"She's five," Jim told her. "Look, mom…"

"Where's the birthday girl?" McCoy's voice suddenly interrupted their conversation as the door swung open and he and a young girl, followed by Spock and Uhura stepped into the entryway.

Cries of, "Unca Bwones!" rang from the far corner of the house once more.

Seeing the stranger standing with Jim and Marissa, McCoy immediately apologized. "Sorry, we didn't mean to interrupt."

"It's okay, Bones," Jim said with pained smile. "Abby and Shea are getting dressed."

Everyone stood uneasily, looking at Jim and Winona and waiting to be introduced or at least directed into the house.

Jim sighed. "Uh, guys, this is my mother, Commander Winona Kirk. Mom this is Bones my CMO and his daughter Joanna."

"Ma'am," McCoy nodded politely, though his eyebrow had risen to his hairline in shock. He glanced carefully at Jim and then back at Marissa who gave a small shrug.

Jim pointed to the couple behind McCoy. "And this is Spock, my First Officer and Uhura my chief of communications."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Uhura stated politely. Glancing over at Jim in curiosity, she held out her hand. She had obviously noticed the inclusion of his mother's title and no one else's.

"Likewise," Winona said as she shook Uhura's hand.

"Commander," Spock nodded stiffly.

"Mr. Spock," Winona replied.

Introductions made, they once again stood awkwardly, unsure of what to say.

"Uncle Bwones! Mr. Spock! Ny Ny!" Abby hollered as she ran into the living room dressed in a frilly blue princess dress complete with a crooked crown perched on her head. "Do you like my dress? It's my birthday dress." She spun around like a dervish. "Didja bring me presents? Didja? Didja?"

"Presents?" McCoy asked, pretending to be confused. "Nobody said anything about presents," he scowled playfully with his hands on his hips. "How do I know if it's really your birthday?" he scooped her up and kissed her cheek.

"Silly Uncle Bwones!" Abby laughed. "You know it's my birthday! You were there."

McCoy made a shocked face. "That's right! I was. Look who I brought with me," he nodded toward the preteen standing behind him.

"Jo!" Abby screeched right into his ear, causing McCoy to flinch. "You came!"

"Happy birthday, Abby," Joanna grinned, holding up a bag that obviously held the wished for present.

"JoJo!" Shea careened into the room, one sock on and his shirt askew. He immediately latched himself onto the young girl's leg. "Mine!" he declared happily.

Everyone laughed.

"Hi Shea," Joanna patted his head.

"So, uh…" Marissa began, "why don't we…"

"Let the party begin!" Sulu opened the door and stuck his head in, not noticing the extra person. "We've got cake made from the famous recipe of Pavel's dear Nona."

"Is it chocolate?" Abby practically screamed.

Sulu looked at her aghast. "Is it chocolate? Pavel?" he glanced behind him, swinging the door open. "Did we bring a chocolate cake?"

"Of course," Chekov declared haughtily as he stepped into the room carrying a three tiered chocolate monstrosity of a cake with blue and pink flowers and a sparkly number five on top.

All the adults ooohed at the sight of it.

"Pasha!" Abby squealed, wiggling down from McCoy's arms and running to hug Chekov's legs. "You came!"

"Spurned for a younger man," McCoy joked, causing Marissa and Uhura to chuckle.

"I would not miss your birthday, kotik," Chekov told her, handing the cake off to Sulu and picking up Abby. She hugged him enthusiastically and gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

"Chekov," Jim mock growled, causing Abby to giggle.

"Guess what, Pasha?" Abby said.

"What, kotik?"

"Daddy has a mommy and she came to visit today on my birthday only she probably didn't even know it was my birthday 'cause she's never visited before," she managed to get out in one breath.

"Really?" Chekov looked over at Jim and then glanced hesitantly at the one stranger in the room.

"Chekov, Sulu," Jim introduced them, "my mother Commander Winona Kirk."

"Ma'am," they both nodded.

There was another awkward pause before Marissa stepped forward. "Hikaru, Pavel, this cake is absolutely gorgeous. I don't think we can eat it."

"Yes we can," the kids chimed in.

"Yes we can," Jim and McCoy declared just as fervently, causing everyone to chuckle and break some of the tension in the room.

"Dinner should be ready soon," Marissa told them. "My family might be a bit late, they missed their original shuttle. Let's not stand around," she began to shoo everyone into the living room. "You know where everything is. Help yourselves." Marissa led the way into their home, pointing Sulu to a small table where he could set down the cake.

"Do you need help with anything?" Uhura asked.

Marissa paused, thinking. "The roast is cooking, the potatoes need some more time – could you work on the salad? I'll have to set another plate and…"

"Done," Uhura interrupted, giving Marissa's hand a friendly squeeze. "I take it this was a surprise?" she asked quietly, watching Jim lead his mother towards his office.

Marissa gave a humorless laugh. "You could say that." She glanced around to make sure no one else was in ear shot. "She just showed up and asked to see Jim. After ten years she's got some nerve."

"Ten years?" Uhura asked in shock.

"Well, more like ten and a couple months," Marissa corrected herself with a shrug, "but still."

Uhura shook her head slowly. "I knew they weren't close. I mean, Jim never talks about his family, just his brother on Stratnon, but I thought…"

"She was on a mission," Marissa shrugged a frown marring her features. "We debated telling her about the wedding. In the end Jim did send her an announcement. We never heard anything back."

Uhura gave her a hug. "Don't let her get to you. This is Abby's day."

"I know, I know," Marissa sniffed, blinking furiously. "Jim's a big boy. He can handle this." The sounds of new voices in the living room drew both women's attention. "Sounds like my folks are here."

"Go," Uhura urged. "I'll see to the salad. Send Sulu in and he can do up the mashed potatoes."

"Oh, and there's a dish of plomeek for Spock," Marissa remembered. "It just needs to be warmed up."

"I've got it covered," Uhura assured her. "Go play hostess."

"Thank you, Nyota," Marissa smiled before leaving the kitchen.

The living room was a swarm of people. Marissa's parents had arrived with her two step sisters and step brother as well as Nana Rose who was currently enthroned on Jim's special chair, her feet up and Abby chattering on her lap while her hair was being braided.

Joanna had escaped from Shea's clutches and was now giggling with Marissa's youngest step sister Melinda and making eyes at her step brother Jacob. McCoy was watching her with a frown that made Marissa smile. Jo was too young for Jake, but she definitely had a crush.

Shea was now perched on Chris Pike's lap showing him his latest starship model.

Hikaru and Pavel had disappeared into the kitchen. Spock was talking with her father and Nancy, which left only Jim and Winona not in sight. Marissa couldn't help worrying as she made her rounds welcoming everyone and making sure they were comfortable. This was not the way the evening was supposed to be going.

xXx

Jim closed the door to the office and leaned heavily against it watching his mother look around the room. Like on the _Enterprise_, Jim and Marissa shared the space. They'd become used to working near each other and didn't see a reason to change now they were in a house that actually had room. Jim's desk was relatively clean. Midterms weren't for another month and the project he'd assigned wasn't due until next week, so he had nothing to grade. The blueprints for the _Enterprise's_ engine upgrades were rolled up and resting on his desk, but that was about it.

Marissa's desk was a bit more haphazard, but Winona ignored it in order to move closer to the bookshelves against the far wall. Marissa had recreated her collage of memories as soon as they had moved in.

Winona quickly zeroed in on their wedding picture.

"I sent you an announcement," Jim told her. "It was kind of put together quickly, but… I thought you should know."

"Admiral Pike married you."

"Yes."

"On the _Enterprise_."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"It seemed fitting," Jim shrugged. "It's where we met and he… he's been a good friend."

"Was she pregnant with Abby?" Winona asked.

Jim felt himself stiffen at the veiled insult. "No, with Shea."

"I see," Winona nodded thoughtfully, still looking at the pictures.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jim asked, trying not to sound defensive, but feeling the same knot in his stomach that his mother always seemed to cause tightening. Nothing was ever easy with his mother.

"It's just a comment, Jim," Winona told him in that condescendingly calm tone she had used when she had spoken to him as a child – whenever she wasn't yelling at him, that is.

Jim shook his head. "Nothing is ever just a comment with you." He watched her continue to look at the pictures waiting for her to make the first move, unfortunately patience wasn't his strongest suit and his mother knew it. "What are you doing here, mom?" he finally asked.

Turning, Winona looked at him with innocent eyes. "Can't a mother visit her son?" she asked, opening her hands and holding them out artlessly.

Jim continued to stare at her forcing back his knee jerk reaction to seek to annoy her. "No," he shook his head, crossing his arms and leaning in what he hoped was a calm manner against the door. "Not after ten years of silence, not to mention a lifetime of avoidance."

Winona frowned. "It's not like you kept in contact with me," she shot back, "and I never neglected you."

"I didn't say neglect, I said avoided," Jim pointed out. "And I got the impression, hung over though I was, that you didn't want anything more to do with me after that last time you picked me up from the sheriff's office."

"Again, you're exaggerating," Winona said with a sniff. "You were always so dramatic."

"I don't think so," Jim shook his head. "I think the phrase 'I wish you'd never been born,' was said at least once; as well as my old favorite, 'your father would be so disappointed.'" Jim smiled with no humor whatsoever.

Winona stared over his shoulder looking extremely uncomfortable and unable to meet his eyes. "It was said in the heat of an argument…"

"It wasn't the first time," Jim countered.

"I didn't really mean it. You were just such a…"

"Difficult child," Jim finished for her. "I know."

"Well, yes," Winona had the grace to blush. "Sam was…"

"So much easier to deal with," Jim interrupted again. "So much more like you."

"Well, he was," Winona shrugged. "You were always too smart for your own good. Too reckless. Too curious. Too…"

"Too much like dad," Jim finished with a sigh. They'd been over this before many, many times. "Look, mom, why are you here? You haven't made any effort to contact me over the years. You knew I joined Starfleet. I know Pike contacted you at least once about being my next of kin. And I know that you refused."

"It made no sense," she defended herself. "I was on…"

"And after the Narada? News about me was all over and you never…"

"Sexiest Man in the Universe?" she snorted in derision.

"And the hero of Earth and the youngest captain in the history of Starfleet," Jim pointed out, blushing slightly. The whole sexiest man thing was not something he put on his resume.

"You had thousands of people fawning over you, you didn't need me."

"It would have been nice to know you were relieved that I was even alive," Jim told her.

"I didn't even know you were in danger."

"Damn it, mom! You always have an excuse," Jim bit out, stalking to sit on the corner of his desk. "Why are you here? Why now?"

Winona ignored the questions and moved over to Marissa's desk, conveniently further away from Jim. She began lifting up random papers and glancing at the books and charts strewn about the desk.

"What does she do?" she finally asked, looking briefly at Jim and then glancing at the star map.

"Marissa?" Jim asked, not prepared for the change of topic.

"Is that your wife's name?" Winona asked in a scolding voice, raising her eyebrows and looking down at Jim like she used to when he was a child. "Honestly Jim, you didn't even introduce her."

"You would have known her name if you had opened our wedding announcement," Jim countered. He waited for Winona to say something, but she remained silent. "She's got her PhD in Xenohistory and Culture," he told her. "Have you heard of the O'Donnell-Killian database that was adopted by Starfleet a while back?"

Winona cocked her head in thought. "Something to do with first contact and a way of processing and correlating data?"

"Yeah, that's it," Jim nodded, still feeling a twinge of pride at what Marissa had accomplished.

"Did she have something to do with it?"

Jim started at her, boggled that she was that clueless. Had she really been avoiding anything to do with him all these years?"

"Something," he agreed, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "She helped write it: Marissa O'Donnell-Kirk."

"Really?" Winona's eyebrows rose in shock. "I am impressed. And here I thought she was just a member of your crew."

"And an advisor to my command team," Jim told her.

"Is that wise?"

Jim shrugged. "It's worked great so far. You might not have heard but the _Enterprise_ is the top ship in the fleet for contact missions. We've had more successful first contacts that have entered the stages of becoming members than any other ship," Jim couldn't help brag a little. He was damn proud of his ship and crew.

"That's a lot of glory for you – Captain," Winona said condescendingly.

"Not me," Jim shook his head. "I never said it was me. It's the crew. I may be captain, but I'm only as good as my crew."

"So humble," Winona said ironically. "You've come a long way."

"It was a learning experience," Jim almost smiled at her.

"Five years – must have been a steep curve."

"Fairly," Jim smiled wryly. They smirked at each other for a moment, a semi truce, until laughter from the other room reminded them that there was a party going on.

"So you're a father," Winona said inanely. "I never thought I'd see the day."

"Yeah, I'm a dad," Jim shrugged. "I never figured it'd happen, but I can't imagine my life without them."

"Planned?"

Jim's eyes narrowed. "Does it matter?" he asked coolly.

Winona shrugged. "Just curious."

"Why are you here?" Jim asked again.

Winona sighed. "I was talking with Sam," she finally told him. "And he mentioned that he'd run into you on Stratnon V. He knew I was going to be on Earth, so he suggested I contact you. Said that there were some changes in your life that I might be interested to know about.

Jim snorted. "He always was one for understatement."

"Yes," she agreed with a wry smile.

"How long are you here for?"

"Another two months," Winona told him, avoiding looking at him.

"How long have you been here?" Jim asked suspiciously, noticing how evasive she was suddenly being.

"Since June," Winona finally admitted under Jim's piercing stare.

"The _Enterprise_ came back at the end of July," Jim said bitterly. "Pardon my ego, but there was quite a lot of fanfare and hoopla at the time. I've been teaching at the Academy since September – I've even given several lectures that were broadcast around the world and to all Starfleet facilities – and you… you want me to believe that you had no idea and it took you eight months to figure out where I was? You had no problem getting to our house now."

Winona didn't have any thing to say that.

"Would you have come if Sam hadn't said something?" Jim asked harshly.

"Does it matter?" Winona countered, trying to sound confidant.

Jim actually seemed to think about that for a moment. "Yeah, I think it does," he finally said. "It's been ten years, mom. True, I might have been a difficult child and teen, but my childhood wasn't exactly ideal, now was it?"

"That's not my fault!"

"Maybe, maybe not," Jim shrugged. "I try not to think about the past," he told her. "Not a lot of fond memories, you know? I get it why you gave up on me – I was going nowhere; sleeping around and drinking my way to oblivion. I guess picking me up from jail that last time was the straw that broke the camel's back. I get it mom. But later, when I enlisted in Starfleet, when I became a captain. Why didn't you even try to contact me? A call? A comm.? A goddamned post-it note? Something? You could have found me easily. I knew where you were!"

"I…I couldn't," she finally told him, her voice breaking. "Every time… I'd see you and I…you… you look so much like him. I couldn't…"

"Jesus mom!" Jim exclaimed with years of frustration. "He's dead. Dad is dead. He's been dead for over thirty years now. Why can't you let it go? He didn't die just for me. He died for you and the crew, too. It's not my fault. I'm your son, too, you know. Why can't you just see me? I'm not him. I'm not…" Jim broke off shaking his head sadly.

"Jim you don't understand what it was like," Winona reached out to him with a shaky hand before letting it drop to her side. "I was… he was my everything and I just couldn't… didn't want to live without him."

"So Sam and I counted for nothing?" Jim asked bitterly.

"You don't know what it was like," she repeated stiffly. "I had you and Sam was so young and I was alone…" she shrugged sadly. "You don't know what it is like being a single parent; faced with a future alone, two babies totally dependant on you…"

Jim's dark laughter interrupted her pleading. "The hell I don't know," he bit out. "I've been there – alone, Abby less than two years old, facing a future alone without Marissa. And do you know what? It hurt to get up every morning and I was barely holding it together. But I had to hold it together – for the ship and the crew. Do you know what got me through each day? My crew? Sure. My friends. Of course. But it was Abby that was the most important. It was Abby who got me through the hard days and the even worse nights. She needed me. And I needed her. She was the only thing of Marissa's that I had left. The most precious gift she'd given me. I couldn't… I can't… imagine living my life like you did, always running away. Hating your children."

"I didn't… don't… hate you," Winona protested weakly, her face pale.

"Well you certainly didn't love us," Jim said cuttingly. "And actually, apathy might be even worse than hatred. You just didn't care. You foisted us off on Grandpa Jim and Grandma Jo, then babysitters, then Frank – and we all know how that one turned out. The whole fucking universe knows that. And when all we wanted was for you to come home and stay, you shipped us off to Aunt Jenny's on Tarsus."

"Jim, I really didn't know…"

"I know mom, but you still passed us on; made us someone else's problem," Jim argued back.

"I…"

"Jim?" Marissa's head popped into the room, she looked carefully between the two combatants on opposite sides of the room staring at each other. "It's almost dinner and… well, everyone is wondering where you are."

"Yeah," Jim shook his head as if waking from a dream and stood up. "It's Abby's birthday." He glanced briefly over at his mother and then left, kissing Marissa on the forehead as he passed her.

Marissa remained in the doorway, watching as Winona pulled herself together. She no longer looked like the ultra confident woman who had arrived unannounced less than a half hour earlier. She looked old and tired, and if Marissa wasn't mistaken her hand was trembling as she unnecessarily straightened her hair.

"I don't imagine you want me here," Winona stated, clearing her throat uncomfortably and not meeting Marissa's eyes.

"Not really," Marissa told her succinctly.

"I'll just leave then," Winona nodded, straightening her blouse in what was obviously a defensive manner; like donning armor.

"I don't think so," Marissa shook her head, still blocking the doorway. "You show up here all of a sudden, with no warning at all; crashing Abby's birthday party…"

"I didn't mean to," Winona protested.

"Doesn't matter," Marissa told her. "You want to see Jim's life now? See his family? His friends? See what he's become? Well there's no time like the present. He's not the boy you remember. He's an amazing man – and friend and partner. He's an amazing captain. And a damn good father, with no thanks to you."

The two women stared at each other, Winona silent and pale, Marissa angry and flushed.

"Marissa!" Jim called from the other room, breaking their staring contest.

"Coming," Marissa called back over her shoulder before turning back to frown at Winona. "I set a place for you at the table. Abby's excited about the idea of having another grandmother," she shrugged, her look saying that she wasn't nearly as thrilled as her daughter. "She's five. She doesn't need to be disappointed on her birthday, now does she?" With a look that was more of a dare, Marissa turned and abruptly left, leaving Winona alone and staring dumbfounded as she realized that the next move was all up to her.

xXx

Walking into the living room with a smile plastered on her face, Marissa made her way over to Jim who was standing next to McCoy but looking at her questioningly. She shrugged slightly at his unvoiced question. The ball was in Winona's court now. She could slip out the front door with no one the wiser or she could stay. It was her decision.

It took a couple more minutes, but eventually Winona walked into the living room, her expression one any of Jim's crew members would have recognized. McCoy called it The Kirk Game Face; he put it on whenever he had to go to a diplomatic function that he was dreading.

Nyota, bless her heart, stepped forward and brought Winona into the room, introducing her to Janice and Christine who had just arrived, as well as Marie Roose, Marissa's boss. The women chatted amiably enough until Sulu popped his head out of the kitchen.

"Marissa, I think we're good to go," he called across the room before he popped back in.

Squeezing Jim's arm, Marissa signaled him to make the announcement while she rounded up the birthday girl and her minion.

They'd set up two tables, one for the adults and one for the kids. Marissa had already apologized to her almost sixteen year old step-brother for adding him to the kid's table, but Shea adored him, so it was a good compromise.

"All right birthday girl, time for dinner," Marissa said, snagging Abby from Pike's lap. "Where's your brother?"

"Dunno," she shrugged before running towards her seat.

"I think he's with Joanna," Pike nodded over towards the corner where the other kids had gathered. Shea was sitting happily in Jo's lap playing with his ship.

"Jo, Jake, Mel, Maddy dinner time," she called over to them. "Can you bring Shea?" Joanna nodded and smiled; standing she hoisted Shea onto her hip.

Marissa moved into the dining area to the specially decked Birthday Girl Table. There was a blue plastic table cloth, fancy princess napkins, balloons attached to the table legs, confetti spread all over the table and an arrangement of flowers that Abby had picked out earlier that morning. Everything the birthday girl had demanded.

Abby sat down daintily on her 'throne' as she called her chair and looked around at her friends and Jo as they found their seats.

"Where's Pasha's chair," she demanded of her mother, her hands on her hips and elbows sticking out.

"Honey, we talked about this," Marissa sighed, reaching down to straighten her crown. "Pasha is going to sit at the grown up table with the other grown ups."

"But I want Pasha to sit with me," Abby pouted, "at my table." Her lip was starting to tremble in a very Kirk-like fashion, signaling the beginning of a fit.

"Abby," Jim warned in a firm voice and giving his daughter a stern look.

"But daddy," she whined, her blue eyes filling with tears. "It's my birthday and I want Pasha to sit with me." She stamped her little foot, causing both her parents to look heavenward for some support or at least patience.

All the adults were doing their best to hold in their grins and not look over at Chekov who was blushing furiously.

"Well, I don't know about Pasha," Sulu interrupted, breaking up the Kirk staring contest, "but everyone knows that the grown up table is boring. Can I join you, Miss Abigail? Maybe between the two of us we can persuade Pasha to join us."

Everyone turned to look at Abby. She was frowning at Sulu, seriously thinking his offer over. They all knew that Abby had claimed Chekov as hers long before she could even walk. When Chekov and Sulu had begun dating and Abby had caught them holding hands things had become pretty tense. It took weeks before Abby would speak to Sulu no matter how hard he tried to win her over. She simply did not want to share her Pasha with anyone.

"Okay, Hi'roo," she sighed, willing to compromise this time. "You can sit with Jake. Pasha sit here," she pointed imperiously to the seat next to her.

The rest of the dinner went smoothly enough. Sulu had the kids' table in giggles for most of the time. Shea only had one food throwing incident which Chekov quickly stopped. All the adults snuck fond looks periodically and joked along with Sulu and Chekov. Marissa enjoyed seeing Winona's perplexed expression as the adults indulged and joined in with the childish banter.

At the big table the talk was more subdued. Jim and Spock explained some of the upgrades to Marissa's dad. Nancy, Christine, Janice and Maria discussed an upcoming sale at one of the big department stores. Nyota and Marissa bounced between both conversations for awhile. Then the topic turned to teaching at the Academy, something all of the command team, except Scotty who was overseeing the upgrades, were doing, versus being on a ship and exploring the galaxy. Marissa's father was pushing hard for them to remain on planet and teach.

"Dad we've had this discussion before," Marissa interrupted before he could build up steam, a slight edge to her voice, though she tried to sound calm. "This is the perfect time for us to be on a ship. The kids are young – and portable."

"What about their schooling?" her father countered. "Another five year mission and Abby will be ten, she should be in school learning."

Marissa did her best not to roll her eyes like Abby when she thought her parents were being especially stupid. "She'll have Jim and me to teach her," Marissa stated. "The childcare center is being expanded to include an elementary school teacher, because we have several other families on board. And we have Spock and Nyota and everyone else. We haven't done badly so far."

"This is true," Spock spoke before her father could open his mouth. "Miss Abigail is highly intelligent and well beyond the skills of the majority of Terran five year-olds."

"It's not normal," her father protested. "She – they – should be around children their own age."

"It's different," Marissa stressed. "Who is to say it's not normal? Or that normal – whatever it is – is best for our children? And don't be a hypocrite. I was never around children my age, remember? Nana was my best friend until I met Janine."

"And we see how that turned out," he muttered under his breath.

"Matthew," Nancy protested, placing a calming hand on his arm.

Marissa opened her mouth to counter that, but Jim cut her off.

"This is not up for debate, Matthew," he said calmly. He was unfortunately used to referring arguments between Marissa and her father. "Marissa and I have discussed what is best for our family and our children. We realize that this is hard for you to grasp and that your protests are because you want to see Marissa and the kids, but to continue to argue over this will only antagonize us and I don't think you really want to do that."

"She has such excellent career opportunities here," Matthew countered, his face red. Obviously he didn't want to give up his argument; though it was obvious to everyone else that he had no chance of winning.

"Marissa has excellent career opportunities wherever she is," Jim countered, a bit of steel slipping into his tone.

"Convenient that," Matthew snorted, glaring at Jim. "Now she can follow you wherever you want to go.

"Dad! We're married, I'd do that anyway and besides this isn't about Jim," Marissa jumped in angrily. "This is about what is best for all of us – together – as a family, while also balancing our careers. And whether you believe it or not the _Enterprise_ is the best place for me – and Jim and the kids."

"Just because he has nothing to do with his family…" Matthew leaned forward, glaring at his daughter.

"The _Enterprise_ is our family," Marissa snapped back. "Sorry Nana, Nancy," she added sheepishly glancing over her grandmother and stepmother.

"This discussion is over," Jim declared in his captain's voice before Matthew could speak again. "This is Abby's birthday and we don't need to spoil it by arguing over something that isn't even up for debate." He looked severely at Matthew and Marissa. "I think dinner is over. Spock, Bones," he turned to his first officer and CMO, "will you help me clean up since Marissa cooked and Nyota and Sulu finished? I don't think we'll be able to steal Chekov from Abby."

"Of course, Jim," Spock replied, standing with everyone else.

"Sure," McCoy agreed, already grabbing plates.

"I can help too," Nancy offered.

"That's okay, Nancy, I think we'll need you in the living room watching over the kids," he not so subtly looked over at Marissa and then her father.

"Of course," Nancy replied, doing her best to hold back a grin.

Marissa narrowed her eyes at Jim and then went over to clean up Shea.

"I'm not a child," Matthew glared from his seat.

"Well, you're acting like one," Nana chimed in. "And a spoiled one at that. Now help me back to my chair. I don't want the Admiral stealing it. I outrank him in this house."

"Yes mother," Matthew replied with a long suffering sigh as everyone, including Admiral Pike, laughed.

"There's a good boy," Nana smiled as he helped her from her chair.

xXx

Later, as Jim was finishing the dishes, Spock already dispatched to the living room, Winona entered the kitchen.

"Mariss? Where do I put this big ass container?" he asked, not bothering to look around as he squatted, peering into one of the lower cabinets. "And why in the hell did you cook so many potatoes?"

"I don't know," Winona replied, causing Jim to spin around and almost fall on his ass. "Why don't you try above the fridge?"

Silently, Jim walked over and looked in the cabinet Winona had suggested. The other matching containers were already nestled there. He put the big one there too.

"Good guess," he told her.

"Thanks," Winona nodded.

Jim continued to put away the cleaned dishes, letting the silence drag out.

"You handled that well," Winona finally said, "earlier in the dining room."

"What? Marissa and her dad?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "That's nothing. Now Klingons are another story. And don't even get me started on the Ferengi."

Winona cracked a small smile. "Still. The Jim I knew would have told him to shut the hell up and mind his own business. And the Jim I knew wouldn't have done the dishes, either."

Jim shrugged, throwing his towel next to the sink. "Well, I'm not the Jim you used to know."

"I see that," Winona said softly.

"Good."

They stood there awkwardly, looking at each other across the now clean kitchen.

"Abby will be dying for her presents," Jim finally told her, motioning for her to precede him out the door. "We should get in there."

"Of course," Winona agreed. "Can't keep the birthday girl waiting.

"Well, we can," Jim said with a smirk. "It's just not a good idea."

_Please review_

_And that folks is the end of _FI&QT _– I think. I've had this written for ages, but I couldn't post it because it talked about Marissa being missing and Shea being named Shea and not Tiberius. I hope you enjoy this. Now it's back to focusing on _Completion_. Finally – as Royalpinkdogs would say. ;-) She's been very patient with my little side stories. Speaking of…_

_Would any of you out there be interested in a mirror story based on Jim and Marissa? Ever since I wrote the Jim Kirk chapter (chapter 7 of _FI&QT_) I've been playing with the idea of what Mirror!Kirk would do if he got his hands on Marissa in his universe. The other day I got inspired to write a few pages. I honestly don't know if I could write something in the Mirror 'verse – it would be very dark and very sexual, but I like the idea that in any universe Jim loves Marissa and vice versa, even if he doesn't really want to._

_Let me know if anyone is interested and I might seriously think about it. I could post the first 'chapter' that I've written to give you a taste of what I'm thinking._

_Cheers - RA_


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